Escaping Normal
by Winged Galaxy Dragon
Summary: Running a finger along the flat of Murciélago, a slice of his own reflection stared back. It was too late for Ulquiorra to decide he didn't want to change, for it had already happened- he had emotion. Yet, perhaps emotions could be for the better. UlqxOri
1. Second Chance

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, nor any characters or places in Bleach, but I DO however own the plotline for this story. Poor characters, they get manipulated so much... XD

And an Author's note, because everyone loves them so. (you can skip it I suppose, but really, it's not that long.)

Ok, so a few things to point out so people don't bitch at me. Italics are either stressed/important bits of thought, text, or a term. (Like in almost all literary pieces) However, a good portion of this is in all italics for a while because its one big flashback. So then it's switched when like that- italics are normal stuff, regular text is speech or important words/stuff. Honestly, I doubt you should need to read this though because if you can't figure that out there's a problem ._. When I do something, I do my homework on it and know (for the most part most of the time) exactly what I'm talking about. The little cloth-wrapped-looking diamond pattern on the hilt of a Zanpakutō IS called a tsuka, and the form of sandals that shinigami and Espada wear are called waraji. Unless Wikipedia lies to me. Which, actually, I suppose it could do…. So since Wikipedia is about as reliable as a *insert unreliable thing here because I can't think*, feel more than free to correct me- I'd appreciate it, actually. Uhh, let's see, what else….um, PDA is short for "public display of affection", and is used as common grounds for the administrators of many schools to drag hapless students to detention hall. (In case your school is blessed enough to not have to deal with that for whatever unfathomable reason.) Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, frailer is in fact a word. (According to MS word) Weird, huh? I thought so. ._.

* * *

The teacher droned on; the clock on the wall not far away ticked, each twitch of the hand seeming louder than the previous. In this false body, all his senses were dulled to the point of making him feel like he was underwater- his sense of smell was practically nonexistent, his vision was far inferior, and it sounded like someone had tossed a pair of earmuffs on his head; at least, in comparison to his natural form anyways. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it became. Ha. "Natural." As if there was anything even remotely natural about an ex Espada stuck in a gigai, suffering through a high school lesson. As if there was anything natural about an arrancar at all. But apparently she'd seen something worth saving in him- if she hadn't, he doubted he'd be here. His cyan eyes drifted from the taunting clock to the water stained ceiling, reduced to a primitive- no, a _human_ form of entertainment; passing the time by trying to discern any shapes within the flaws.

There was a vague impression of a deformed rabbit there, and that one looked eerily like a pair of eyes. If he remained in this room one second longer he was sure he'd shed that awkward, uncomfortable gigai on the spot and bust out through the window, resurrecting mid-air and soaring far, far away so he could be free of the brain-numbing ramblings of Odysseus's tedious journey. His ebony nail scraped down the desk inaudibly, and he found himself wising he was instead digging his claws into something more alive. God, he couldn't stand it! He just had to get out of this suffocating room with its herd of young people packed inside. At last the bell screeched, causing half the class to jump, and the other half to blearily glare up at it, upset at their sleep being ruined.

His sigh of relief was thinly concealed as he fluidly stood, and swept all his papers into proper order, turning to leave the new form of hell he'd become so recently tossed into. Out of habit, he reached up to brush a pale hand through the coal black hair on the left side of his head- it was odd, the ever present hollow mask remnant not being there. But far more odd than that were the normal clothes he'd been forced into. He wore the school uniform with the top button undone, in a small show of defiance towards the killing of individuality by use of identical required clothing. As he reached the doorway, he took a bracing breath and allowed the current of screaming students to carry him along, before they all realized _who_ they were screaming so loudly right next to- Ulquiorra Shiffer, the newest "creepy dude", as he'd often heard it said, of Karakura high.

Passing through the halls, Ulquiorra soon didn't need to worry about dodging students- they all warily parted before the pale-as-death, emerald eyed "student" as he drifted through the hallways. Their instincts subtly admonished them over the danger the disguised arrancar posed, each one going out of their way to widen the gap between the inhuman student and themselves. Lockers were primly maintained; although a few had recent graffiti the school's janitor hadn't gotten to yet. The other attendants of the school milled about sharing homework, gossip, or spit. He was nothing short of being revolted that these people could do such…things, right in public. It wasn't that he hated humans- far from it; he found them fascinating in a way. But some of them he wanted to beat some sense and decency into.

Teachers squawking "PDA!" gave chase to the free-spirited teens, as they ran laughing, weaving in and among the crowd. This was an everyday occurrence, but lately he'd been finding himself more and more annoyed by it. At last he made it out the front doors of the school, those who were nearest him pressing against complaining classmates in an attempt to put even more distance between them. Ulquiorra regarded one extremely thin, gangly blond pupil that had been easily pushed in way of his path. Locking apathetic eyes with her, she stuttered something that could have been along the lines of "I'm sorry!", or along the lines of "I'm starving!" the words were so incomprehensible. Ulquiorra gave the slightest incline of his head to her politely, before allowing his piercing, commanding gaze to rake across the group who'd pushed her in the first place. The collection of fools withered and shrunk, and once Ulquiorra was satisfied they'd cowered enough, he placed a hand on the shoulder of the terrified girl and gently moved her to the side.

"Excuse me." He said smoothly. The girl almost fainted from his proximity, mind likely still fried over the fact that the creepy, constantly annoyed looking "student" was capable of being even remotely gentle. Ulquiorra tossed a parting comment over his shoulder, more directed at the imbeciles than the victim- "And see that you don't allow anyone to shove you around." Fixing his gaze on the horizon in front of him, he continued his escape from prison. He stalked around to the back of the school, knowing full well nobody would dare follow someone such as himself. He had the soul pill between his teeth before he'd barely turned the corner, feeling the false body slip away as a cocoon around a butterfly might have felt.

The broken helmet returned, along with the dark green tracks down his face. This time he didn't bother to conceal the release of his pent up breath, giving his gigai a sharp nudge in the ribs with the toe of a slightly worn waraji sandal to get it standing so he could leave this place all the faster. Cutting across the grass to the sidewalk, his second body shuffled after him until a sharp look set it to walking evenly and fluidly, an aloof expression upon its face- even while pretending, Ulquiorra had no desire for friends, and if his appearance and mannerism kept them away, then he wouldn't hesitate to go the distance to maintain the cold façade. Or so he told himself.

Autumn leaves coated the streets, turning everything into a burnished, ancient gold color as he strode by, his pace clipped and precise. He'd be dammed if his soldier's instincts ever left him in this gilded cage of a town. He wanted to vomit at the scenery, and the way he was reacting to it- he'd been away from Las Noches far too long, despite it having really not been very long at all. He remembered his coming to be here, his perpetually blank expression taking on a hint of slight anger as he thought of the ridiculously dressed shopkeeper, waving a fan around childishly while stuffing his face with lollipops. Had Ulquiorra possessed any prevalent emotions at the time, he surely would have given a short, hollow laugh, and left. He remembered when, not so long ago, all he'd needed to worry about was keeping that woman alive and protecting Las Noches under the command of Aizen. He was, in all honesty though he'd never admit it to himself or anyone else, still rather shell-shocked. How had he gone from "Keep the tool alive. Protect Las Noches with your life." to "what is an epic hero trait of Odysseus?"?

_Not so long ago_. His teeth ground against themselves, the very action yet another testament to his stay in the town. Despite being part hollow, arrancar were also part shinigami- a fact that they couldn't cast aside, no matter how much they may have wanted to do so. Spending this much time around humans, despite much of his contact being limited to a curt nod or sharp answer to an unintelligent question, seemed to have dragged out the distorted human (if it could even be called as such at all) side in him. He couldn't demur though- not justifiably anyways. He'd saved that woman the only way he could, and this was his punishment. It wasn't intended to be punishment at all, but he certainly wasn't enjoying his time in this place.

At least he'd gained something from all of this nonsense- an understanding of the "heart", something he'd previously dismissed as nothing more than a mere organ that kept you alive by sending blood through one's body. And indeed that really was all that it did- but what it stood for, the implications behind the term- all of it had busted through the thick wall of his skull and kicked his brain in the tailbone, jerking him to a rather different track of thinking about things.

In the final moments of his "death", as it were, he'd understood everything- every gesture of kindness towards the enemy from Orihime, no matter how insane it might have been to do; he understood it all. He'd become aware of the existence of the heart in the same moment the woman had reached out to him in return to his question they had both become so accustomed to- _"Are you afraid of me?" _Her response had been akin to a slap in the face with a dead trout- _"No."_ It was no different from all the other times she'd answered with that exact response, he knew, but there was something about it this time. Some sort of connotation he'd been letting slip by until it was almost too late. She had a heart, he had a heart; everyone did. Some people's hearts were just twisted beyond recognition. Aizen was plenty proof enough of that unsettling fact.

As these thoughts created a tempest in a teapot within his mind, it was a small task to keep the stiff, impassive mask in place. Despite the newly discovered emotion of annoyance, none of it ever leaked noticeably through onto his face. Never. Not even when he seated himself beneath the tree in the courtyard each day during lunch, as Ichigo's group of friends insisted on his joining them "only for the day!" With the exception of Ichigo, who seemed to be indifferent to the arrancar rather than outright hostile, the hodgepodge of friends openly encouraged him to be part of the fun. He would always do the same though- regard them with a cool, indifferent expression, before returning his attention to his food, or book, or whatever else he happened to have upon his person, if only to block out their harassing heckling. But as he had come to acknowledge, it had become progressively more difficult to ignore the group, the frequent peals of laughter carrying over to his ears, one in particular beckoning him to be a part of the happiness.

He passed on through another perfectly manicured street, something right out of a painting. How in the hell was it so perfect? His gigai had fallen behind, the mod soul savoring its outdoor freedom as it craned its neck up at a tree, eyes following the path of a falling leaf, lazily drifting earthward. Normally Ulquiorra would have given a sharp snap of fingers to set the mod soul walking appropriately again, but today, despite the vexingly flawless surroundings, he was content. Today was Wednesday, a day he ardently looked forward to all week long for the most elementary of reasons- it was the one day a week it was most satisfying to take wing through the skies. Regular days didn't leave him with enough leisure time to glide through the air before needing to return inside, still itching to feel the pulse of the wind against his wings before he'd had his fill of temporary liberation from this human world.

In Las Noches, he'd never bothered to change into his released form- there had been no emotion of content or satisfaction that could have prompted him to do it. But here when each day at _school_ (the very word making him cringe) he was confined to a false body and monotonous lecture on things he usually already knew of, he desired some form of release- something to look forward to, to keep himself from undertaking his earlier plan of a daring window escape.

A few more turns and at last and the Urahara shop came into his line of sight, and the moment it did he saw it erupt into flames in his mind's eye. Now if only it would happen in reality; _that_ would be far more satisfying than his weekly flight could ever be. But a simple gigai drop off, and then he'd be free to fly as he pleased. The door slid open with a clack, the snoring Urahara on the floor barely twitching. Ulquiorra stepped past him with disgust. Did that man ever do anything worth doing besides sleep? The gigai followed Ulquiorra inside, the only difference being it paused to snicker at the line of drool leaking out the side of Urahara's mouth rather than disdainfully glaring. Ulquiorra gave it the routine instructions he always did on Wednesdays;"You are not to be seen. You may go outside if you can accomplish that requirement. If not, then the consequences will be your own problem. Do whatever else you wish; it is of no significance to me." With that the ex Espada turned on his heel and left the shop. Stepping into the open yard in back of the store, a scuff of dust accompanying his halt, he drew his sword; the intonation and release came as naturally as breathing. "Bind. Murciélago."

He felt his body shift with the change. His previously broken helmet now served its purpose as a completed one, whilst his dark wings lashed out on either side of him, buffeting the air- and someone else- in their wake. A muffled "Mmf", the sound of a person bracing themselves, was heard. Stilling his wings he cut off the small tempest that erupted in their wake, quickly pulled them in against himself as best their length would allow, and brought his eyes up to rest on Inoue Orihime. She too remained in school attire, except that she wore hers appropriately within school requirements, unlike himself. Seeing her here, and now, threw his rhythm off kilter for a moment. To anyone, his expression would have remained as impassive as ever. But from her days as a prisoner in that white washed tower, Orihime knew that the slight centimeter his eyebrow lifted meant he hadn't planned on this. Clearing the shock from her own face, for she hadn't expected to skip right in on the released ex Espada upon using the back door to the shop either, she smiled the bright smile that he had been waiting for- it never failed to appear, even for him; apparently being kidnapped, and threats of being force fed hadn't made even a chink in her armor.

Or rather, not one that he could see anyways- for she too had become more skillful in concealing her emotions. As the glue that bonded her group together, she had to be strong, lest everyone fall apart. Moving forward, she came to a standstill an appropriate speaking distance away from the arrancar, who regarded her with a lack of….. anything really. This bothered her. He did _not_ threaten to force feed her for weeks on end, did _not_ save her as payment for in turn saving him, only to stare at her now without any emotion whatsoever. Purposely tucking a stray length of hair behind her ear in a gesture she knew she often performed unconsciously, she watched him carefully- and there it was; the flash of recognition that flitted across his eyes was unmistakable, despite his attempt to hide it. She gave him props though- anyone else would have definitely been none the wiser.

"Let me guess- Urahara is asleep, snoring and drooling?" She broke the silence with her inquiry, but her voice was pitched to carry and not startle.

"Indeed. A shoe to his face would likely remedy that problem however." Ulquiorra didn't break Orihime's gaze as she cracked a small smile at this, despite it being slightly unexpected. He felt oddly triumphant at getting her to smile and it confounded him, as many things recently had been doing. Apparently the ex Espada had a deeply…_deeply_ buried sense of dark humor somewhere. But it was still there nonetheless.

"Maybe I'll pour some sand in his mouth or something."

It was Ulquiorra's turn to be amused, the corner of his lip twitching up for half a second as he imagined the lazy shopkeeper flailing about, gagging. He'd pay money to see something like that…..hell, why bother paying? He could watch it for free, and do it himself. Tomorrow was already looking a little better with this plan in mind.

"Please do so. The snoring grates on your nerves after a long enough time."

Deciding his flying time had been cut short enough, he reluctantly stepped away from his used-to-be prisoner-turned-rescuer. Berating himself for the reluctance to leave her presence, for he should not care, a single powerful down stroke was all it took for him to become airborne and he spiraled up lazily, thoughts off elsewhere- particularly on Orihime as he saw her stare up after him with a look of amazement on her face, before quickly clearing the expression and heading into the shop. A moment later he dropped a few feet in shock when he heard a distinctive yelp, and Orihime's firm but still kind voice scolding Urahara, and asking him how he possibly stayed in business if he slept through customers all the time. _"That had to be her stepping on his face. There is no mistaking it." _Allowing himself to hold a barely-there smile for a full second this time around, he swooped and dove, relishing the feeling of the wind biting at his skin and the clouds challenging him to brave their cold, moisture-filled fluffy bodies.

He skirted the edges of them instead, reaching out a hand to collect a palmful of cold water. Drifting from the airspace near the Urahara shop and above the more urban area of Karakura on a weak current of air, he dropped the surprise upon a passing student he knew was equally loved and resented for her fickle nature. Shrieking, she batted at her flawless curls before whipping around and staring up, as though she'd actually be able to see him. He, the arrancar and an ex Espada. He, the one visible to only those with a spiritual pressure of their own. He, who could kill just as easily as he could drop that handful of water. He didn't find it worth his time to await any further reactions from her as he banked sharply and climbed higher, the town a mottling of small-looking houses, cars, people, and anything else one could see from his vantage point. He tore through the sky until the sun fled for a time, and the moon came out, reminiscent of Las Noches in all its pale radiance.

At last nearing morning, and thus the end of his flight, he gave one final swoop and dove at the ground, pulling up sharply and soundlessly landing with his wings extended, knowing this would be the last time he stretched them until the weekend. He hadn't missed the intake of breath as he'd landed, nor did he bother to immediately turn and meet eyes with the person- Orihime was recognizable enough by her scent. It was floral, as expected, but not cringingly so. To balance the flowery half, a warmness like freshly baked bread wove itself through the smell, tying it together in an unexpected harmony. He blinked at the conflicting nature of it- bread and flowers? It shouldn't have worked- and yet, somehow, it did. But a more pressing question was why hadn't he noticed it until now? Perhaps because all close contact with her had been with him being half dead at the time, or in the middle of a life-threatening situation, where a scent was furthest from either of their minds.

Why was she out here at this hour? He passed a glance at her over his shoulder. Her fiery hair stuck up on one side of her head, and her face had press lines from obviously being slept on- she must have fallen asleep in the shop somewhere. Irked at the shopkeeper for not having the proper manners to wake her and send her home, he slowly retracted his wings, purposely making their presence highly obvious; he was waiting for a glimmer of fear to dart across her eyes before she valiantly shoved it down, but to his frustration, the only thing there was a cautious curiosity. Why didn't she fear him? He might be under tight surveillance from Soul Society, and they might have saved each other, but properly placed fear was a life-saving survival instinct. And he was a creature to be feared, whether the one fearing him consciously knew it or not.

But perhaps it was like someone who befriended a tiger- the fear would be there at first, but after a while, it would fade. Until of course that tiger did something to strike up the fear rooted and buried deeply within the person- perhaps an expansive yawn exposing rows of fangs would cause the person to remember WHY this animal should be feared, even if for a moment. Likewise, hiding none of what Ulquiorra truly was from Orihime should have prompted her to remember _what_ he was. But for all Ulquiorra's new insight into the heart, he was still oblivious about Orihime's illogical logic- She didn't fear him because of _who_ he was, not what. He'd see it eventually, she'd promised herself that. She wasn't done getting him to understand his previously swept-under-the-mat concepts yet; not by a long shot.

He pondered the possible reasons for her trust; most feasible was the connection they shared. He'd kept her alive all those weeks while Aizen had still been in existence, despite being under orders and acting rather cruelly about it. In return she had saved him from the brink of death. He wondered, what about her had gotten him so agitated lately? Was it things unsaid between them? But what was there to say? _"Thanks for resurrecting me from a little pile of ashes, woman!" "Oh, no problem Ulquiorra, you did save me from being eating by a gelatinous purple blob after all!" _Somehow he knew that was about as far away from right as it could get. So what was it? What was it that inspired him to search her gaze a little deeper, pay a little more attention to her, and try to figure her out more completely than the little he already knew of her? He was acutely aware of his heart beating in his chest, the barely faster than normal staccato rhythm appearing to taunt him with the symbolic-ness of it all.

* * *

"Ul…Ulquiorra…?"_ He heard the tentative voice breeze by the edges of his consciousness, it taking him a full few seconds to comprehend the words after they'd been spoken. The woman. His stomach felt like it was about to jump ship…but that wasn't possible- his stomach, among other organs, had been blasted away by the hollow-ified Ichigo. Hadn't they? He went to move his hand to check, only to remember he had no arm now either. But he twitched his fingers, feeling the cool sands of Las Noches sift through them. His eyes opened a slit, a blur of gold-orange attacking his vision and punching straight through into his pounding brain. He felt like he'd been trampled over by Yammy a thousand plus times, and then used as Grimmjow's scratching post. He probably looked like Grimmjow's litter box too. Heh, he was sure Grimmjow would get pissy if he knew Ulquiorra had made that comparison._

"D-don't rush it! You were practically dead… You can't be feeling very pleasant right now…"_ The voice was quiet despite the edge of hysteria it held in it presumably to keep his head from exploding; the way his brain was clamoring inside his skull was bad enough as it was without any extra noise. But he refused to lay there without knowing the gist of his situation. He HAD died, had he not? Why was he here then? ...Unless Orihime had died too. He shook the though off, bothered by how much it disturbed him. Trying again to move, his vision still only registering vague blurs of color, he felt two warm hands on his shoulders carefully hold him down. _

"No. I just fixed your stomach, and the surrounding organs are still recovering. You move, and they'll tear, and I'll have to do it all over again."

"…I cannot see."_ His voice was rougher and more strained than he'd ever heard it before- even his throat had been scorched by collateral from Ichigo's cero. He felt the hands move slightly with the force of a nod being executed traveling down through them. _

"I know. I haven't gotten to your eyes yet. Just… trust me, and be patient. You'll be okay."

"…Woman."

_He felt her jump a little at his tone, and he softened it a bit._

"Y-Yes?"

_The question he intended to pose was "Why did you save me?" _

_Instead, what came out was _"What is wrong?"

"Oh... I forced Ichigo to go on without me- Soul Society is in great danger after all. We both knew I'd be fine here. But as I watched him leave, I remembered the look on your face when you'd faded- you'd finally found what a "heart" was, hadn't you? I couldn't sit around and let you die like that after having been given another chance."

_Ulquiorra felt his insides healing as Orihime spoke, and he concentrated on both what she was saying and the odd, unnatural warmth reversing the damage he'd sustained, one piece at a time. He felt as it spread from his recently re-assembled stomach, working diligently on the organ, before passing over it again, as though checking for any other injuries it had missed. It traveled up to his throat, working on the burn-damaged tissue there, and he tensed at the vulnerability it invoked. A hand settled on his head, nervously running through his obsidian hair in an attempt to soothe, but as though afraid he'd sever it upon contact. Had events panned out even slightly differently, with him not grasping what a heart truly was in the last moment, he would have likely retaliated against the unfamiliar touch. As it was though, he allowed his eyes to shut and relaxed until the warmth started regenerating them, and secretly enjoyed the hand running through his hair. The last time he'd felt a touch not meant to inflict damage had been before he'd become a hollow, before he'd become a vasto lorde, before he'd become an Espada, and up till now. When he'd been human. As though seen through the murky waters of a long stagnant pond, his memories of that time were disjointed and fuzzy. _

_He was yanked back to the present as he felt the hands on his shoulder and head begin shaking, and knowing his vision was either healed and was normal again, or at least soon would be, he glanced up at his unpredicted savior. Same as he remembered, her bleach-white clothes were shredded from the two arrancar who'd attacked her during his fight with Ichigo, and as could be expected, a dusting of purple was appearing around her eye where it had been nearly gouged out. The color had drained from her face, and her eyes were alternating between being focused and vacant. _

"Woman."

_His now even and smooth voice pulled her back from whatever stupor she was in as well, her eyes darting to lock with his. He held the gaze for a moment, confirming what he thought he'd seen- her stormy gray eyes were indeed flicking between conscious and vapid._

"_Woman_."

_He repeated, but with more emphasis._

"…uhhh…yeah…?"_ The lethargic response prompted Ulquiorra to sit up, wincing as he realized that while any fatal damage had been amended, there were still massive cuts and bruises littering his body which, if not tended to, would quickly become fatal. He turned right in time to see the woman sway unsteadily, before he reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder, steadying her._

"Woman! What is wrong?"

"Uhhhm, I just…y'know….too much healing and stuff…"_The slurred, odd answer was enough of an impetus for Ulquiorra to suck up his pride and scoop Orihime up, one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. This brought her back to reality long enough to be shocked, to weakly question his motives, and to warn him against moving, before he silenced her by placing the back of his marble white hand against her lips._

"Sleep, unless you wish to die. You've used far too much of your spiritual pressure."

_All that was managed was an inarticulate string of speech from around his hand._

"Urahara's ship, Karkura town, he'll know what to eat."

"…_what? A ship in Karakura town? Someone named Urahara will know what to __**eat**__? How is this helpful?" Regardless, Ulquiorra raised a hand to materialize a Garganta, careful not to drop Orihime- any brain damage she must already have that caused her to be so incessantly cheerful shouldn't be made worse. The black abyss yawned open, daring him to tread inside its perilous depths. Scoffing at the fear shinigami had of this passage, he easily stepped inside._

_The teeth of the rip in space slammed closed behind him, the light being sucked out of the dimension, leaving the two in total blackness. He started forward, waiting until he innately knew he'd reached the appropriate point at which to exit. He stepped out of the portal, and his Emerald eyes widened at the site. There were decimated buildings, crushed cars, felled light posts, shattered windows, and a torn up street; the pavement sticking up and cracked, crumbling away from the massive blows it had undoubtedly sustained. He inspected the tell tale signs of an arrancar fight- cero marks scorched anything that had been unlucky enough to get caught in the blast, circular indentations in building sides marking sites at which either shinigami or arrancar had been tossed with considerable force into a wall. _

_This had been a war zone, and the risk was high, because it could still be one. Ulquiorra glanced down at the girl in his arms, and knew that he had to get her to safety no matter what- an un-repaid debt would be an egregious stain on his honor, and he would absolutely refuse to permit it. He flinched as he used sonido to skirt the annihilated battle ground, feeling himself continue to lose what little blood he had left from the wounds Orihime's Sōten Kisshun hadn't been able to fix before she'd passed out._

_Grimacing, he reviewed his limited options. He could attempt to shake the life out of the foolish woman, until she woke up and told him more about this ship and eating man who would help. He found he was actually a little unsettled at the thought of causing injury to the woman though, so that idea was swiftly discarded. Alternatively, he could use a chunk of his remaining energy to shoot a cero, drawing any nearby shinigami who'd certainly fetch help. But, he acknowledged, that would also lead to his capture. Despite not missing vital organs anymore he was nowhere near having the ability to fight off multiple captains, never mind do something as simple as walking while holding another person. However….would a fight be necessary at all if he surrendered? The thought left a taste of ash in his mouth, but it was the best option he had out of his limited list. _

_Being captured aside, Ulquiorra realized it wouldn't matter even if he did escape soul society- Aizen had been destroyed; there was a lack of that particular malignant, twisted spiritual pressure. He had nothing to return to, nor would he have willingly returned to Aizen anyways- he was not a little lost puppy, and knew Aizen was mad with power. So should he move forward? _Could_ he move forward? Freeing a hand to aim the growing cero away from everything, he decided one thing-he had little choice in the matter._

* * *

_A few leagues away, all heads snapped simultaneously towards the pillar of green- a cero? What awful aim. A desperation move perhaps? Or a diversion? The commander lifted an old, wizened, white brow before his flash step led the charge. All able-bodied division captains and vice captains shared uneasy, confused glances before following, coming to witness a most out-of-place site- A pale, heavily breathing and bleeding arrancar in tattered, bloody, battle eaten clothes holding Orihime Inoue, her looking only slightly better than he. Juushiro Ukitake, captain of the 13th division flashed down, coming to stand before the now ex Espada, regarding him with a calm sort of fascination._

"Are you just going to stand there and stare, fool? Can your eyes not see she is in danger of losing her life? Every second counts."

_Ulquiorra commented, trying to remain standing tall despite feeling like his life was coming to an end once more. Hadn't he died enough damn times already? His eyes widened as he abruptly staggered and coughed into his hand, leaving behind a mess of blood, more still running out of his mouth as he panted. That cero had taken much of what he had left to fire off, and coupled with the sonido he'd used to get here while carrying an extra person, the toll had added up to a high cost- robbing him of his regenerative power's ability to hold him together._

_Meeting the white haired captain's shocked eyes, Ulquiorra proudly lifted his head and declared; _"My debt is repaid." _before seeing black holes developing in his vision and falling forward, feeling as Orihime was caught in a shinigami's arms before he hit the fractured pavement. He gave a strained "Rrrh…" As he futilely tried to push himself back to his feet, but the world tilted and spun. "Shit." He mumbled, greeting the blackness he'd become well acquainted to as of late._

* * *

_"Beep….Beep….Beep…."_

"Ughh….. What an awful sound to wake up to…." _Ulquiorra's voice came out scratchily again, much to his annoyance. The renowned 4th Espada wasn't supposed to sound like he'd downed a bucket of rusty nails! His face remained blank, or so he hoped anyways, as the memory of his not being an Espada any longer hit him square in the face like a brick; which, now that he thought about it, felt like it had a nicely sized bruise developing across his cheekbone._

"Be glad. It means you haven't kicked the bucket yet." _A neutral sounding voice pointed out, a ripping sound accompanying the movements of fabric. She was changing bandages perhaps?_

"I shall be "glad" as soon as I know where I am and whether or not my situation is deserving of this "gladness"."

"You're in the 4th division barracks in soul society. We've got multiple captains on stand-by should you attempt anything...less than peaceful. Remain calm, and I don't think anything really bad will happen to you. I'm captain Unohaha's lieutenant Isane, and am here because she's busy tending to your…friend, Inoue. It's fortunate you got her- and yourself- here when you did." _The voice informed him._

"…As I surmised, nothing much to be ecstatic about…" _The arrancar mumbled flatly._

_Ulquiorra was reluctant to open his eyes, remembering the intensity of his previous headache and wondering if this would have a similar effect. But he had to know his surroundings, had to assess the situation. With Aizen no longer alive, these were purely instinctual actions. His cat-like pupils came in contact with a pair of guarded gray-brown eyes, and he flicked them past her probing stare to the facility around him. The room was a pale green and smelled of sterility; bare save for a single white stand in the corner, Murciélago perched atop it as though it had been awaiting his awakening. Apparently it had, for it gave off a pulse of energy Ulquiorra could only loosely associate with being pleased. Isane whipped around, hand on her sword hilt._

"My sword is not capable of attacking of its own volition, nor would I be asinine enough to attempt anything. Relax, shinigami. Now, why am I unable to feel anything very well?"

"…" _Removing her hand from the hilt, Isane inspected his expression. She found it to be a pointless venture though, seeing as how the ex Espada wasn't displaying emotion on his face at all anyways._

"That would be the pain medication. Your lung had been punctured by a broken rib at some point that hadn't been fully healed and you strained yourself, opening it up again, and surgery was necessary to patch it up. It should be wearing off soon though, so inform someone when it does- more painkillers will be brought to you then. You'll need them. But once Inoue recovers, she'll be sent in to speed up your healing."

_Ulquiorra nodded, barely feeling his matted hair brush his cheek through the numbness. That was fine then, he'd just sleep for a few more hours; recover, and try to make Orihime's task a little easier. He'd quickly discovered that the more taxed Orihime was, the longer it took for her healing to make much of a difference. The Isane lady said something else, but Ulquiorra had already tuned her out and fallen back asleep. He'd deal with everything once he stopped feeling like shit._

* * *

"_click."_

_The opening of the door leading into his set-aside infirmary room woke him, and he heard the soft steps, muffled by socks, approaching him. He tensed, but then inhaled and relaxed. Only the woman, Orihime. He hissed as he tried to sit up, and found himself shackled to the bed by seki seki rock cuffs. Of course. They did allow for a good deal of freedom of movement, enough to stand and pace, but not to reach out for Murciélago. It was a reasonable precaution though, he thought, running a nail over the bracelets, feeling as they practically repelled him like a magnet would its same polar end. At least he no longer had IV's snaking along the length of his arm. He noted that while his bloodstained hakama remained on, his jacket had been taken...somewhere, leaving him with bandages spanning the length of his chest and wrapping around his torso. He gazed at Murciélago for a moment wanting to reunite with his blade, his hip feeling particularly awkward without its ever-present existence there._

_Ulquiorra's musings were brought to a crashing halt when he was- yet again- forced to lay back down by the woman tugging his arm, bringing the rest of him down along with it; his abdominal muscles were still far too shredded to be of much use in holding him up. He glared at her, irises barely distinguishable in the dark room- he'd obviously slept the whole day. He felt a twinge of something he would later know as guilt, as he observed the now darker splash of purple beneath her eye- something he could have and should have prevented. She had changed out of the torn up white outfit given to her in Las Noches, replacing it with the garb of a shinigami. The black robes looked as though they'd been borrowed from a random shinigami's dresser at the last second, being a bit too large for her. Or, had she gotten much thinner from her time in Las Noches? Despite being forced to eat every day by Ulquiorra, he knew that humans worked in odd ways- physical food had been enough to keep her alive for a time, but she had been steadily whittled away, ultimately, by starvation of the "love" she often spoke of, which he now understood. _

"…Don't push me, woman."_ Ulquiorra mumbled, not placing as much sting as he typically would have behind his words._

"You're still really hurt and you're trying to get up and go again. I'll sit on you if I have to, to keep you still long enough to heal." _Orihime notified him. Scarily enough, she sounded completely serious about following through with the threat too._

_To say Ulquiorra was bewildered was a bit of an understatement. His eyes had widened and his lips were slightly parted as he stared at Orihime who'd turned to summon her Sōten Kisshun. Had she just… had _she_ just told _him_ what to do? While he was still trying to wrap his mind around what she'd said, the shield of gold-orange materialized over him. The warmth returned, and he felt his muscles slowly knitting themselves back together. The peaceful silence was broken by Orihime sighing disapprovingly as she noted the state of his hair and hollow mask. Limp with dirt and blood, the half helmet caked with other unpleasant things, it made the Espada appear that much frailer. Orihime didn't like that on him- he was someone who was meant to look powerful, no matter the situation. He didn't bother to turn his head but merely watched from the corner of a jade green eye as he saw the woman stand, and offer a short _"I'll be right back."_ Before padding quietly across the room and slipping out the door. _

_He watched her go, and thought of Hueco Mundo- did he miss it? Why was he suddenly using verbs like miss? The pale sands and barren, skeletal quartz trees flashed in his mind, and he thought that no, he had no true desire to return to that place. It's not like it was the most interesting of places, and there was nothing left for him to bother with there anymore anyways. Orihime's shield had wavered and faded with the distance she'd put between her object of healing and herself, but he knew she was returning as the shield picked up its brightness again. _

_Her voice resonated softly from behind him now, and the request caught him quite off guard-_"Would you mind if I washed all that crap out of your hair? It just….doesn't look right."_ He debated with himself for a moment, but eventually conceded with the logic that if the woman was willing to make a move to clean his hair herself, it must have been pretty awful. _"Fine. How do you intend to accomplish this?" _Orihime's mind stumbled, but she collected herself before the perceptive arrancar could notice; Or so she thought- she missed Ulquiorra's half smirk-half smile as she glanced at the bowl of warm water, shampoo, conditioner, and stack of towels she'd snagged from the nearby bathroom. She found that he had a valid point- it's not like this was like one of the salons in the mortal world. Sucking up her embarrassment, she stuttered out a shaky _"Here."_ before tapping him lightly on the back, prompting him to sit up and pass an inquiring gaze behind him at her. _

_Laying one of the towels across his shoulders, she hesitantly grabbed his hand and guided it up to where the two ends of the towel met in front of his neck. _"Hold it there." _Her brain took full opportunity to acknowledge that, although currently wrapped in bandages, he had a nice build. He wasn't muscular to the point of being Kenpachi, but he wasn't sharply angular like Ikkaku. Giving herself a mental face slap, she grabbed another one of the towels, folded it a few times, and placed it under his neck so his hair was free to be washed in the bowl while he leaned back and relaxed. She was about to run the water through his matted hair, until she had to stop herself from doing a face-palm; his helmet. How in the hell had she forgotten about that? Her mental tirade at herself was interrupted when she heard a flat, humorless chuckle rumble from the arrancar's chest. Orihime was struck dumb at the fact that Ulquiorra COULD laugh, so when he next spoke her brain had to sprint to catch back up. _

"It comes off, you know." _Ulquiorra noted to her, as though he'd just said it had rained yesterday, or he'd gone to the store. _

"It…does?" _Orihime said vaguely, still stuck over the fact the ex Espada had laughed, if only a little._

_There was another flat chuckle. _"how do you think I washed my own hair with this thing? It comes off, but having it off is…uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable as in painful?" _Orihime queried._

"….Not…exactly. More like walking through a crowded place without a pair of pants- it makes us feel very…vulnerable."

_The word "vulnerable" was a fight to get out, but Ulquiorra managed it. Orihime watched as he seemed to retreat into some part of his mind for an instant, then come back to himself. _"Give it a tug now- it should come off." _Orihime did so and carefully slid the helmet piece off, as though afraid it would shatter like glass._ "Woman, you could hurl that at the floor with all your might, and the floor would be more damaged. It isn't about to break from being picked up." _Nodding, Orihime set the hollow mask piece on the floor, still careful despite the ex Espada's assurances of its solidity. She watched as his hand twitched uncomfortably, as though itching to come up and feel the empty half of his head out of habit._

_ Now that Orihime was able to get at all of his hair without a bone carapace covering half of it, she gently worked the warm water through the worst of the tangles and clumps,_ _loosening whatever stuff happened to be caked in it. Flipping the top off the bottle of shampoo with a quiet "pop" the clean, soapy scent of the mixture seeped almost lazily into the air. Ulquiorra thanked luck that Orihime hadn't grabbed a fruitily scented shampoo- he'd have died a little on the inside if he had to be subjugated to smelling like cherries or strawberries or something akin to that for even a little while. Working it into a lather, she rubbed the shampoo through his ebony hair with more care than she'd ever used when washing hair in her life._

_Ulquiorra had been surprised at Orihime's boldness around someone as unsettling as he knew he was, but was far more surprised at himself. Normally he'd be having a serious problem with someone touching him at all, never mind allowing them to remove his mask. But something inside him told him to stop being so thick for once- it was time he moved past all of that, time he let go of all those old little cruxes. He could still feel the leftover warmth from the woman's hands over his, and wondered if it were a side-effect of the painkillers- the feeling of her hand over his should have vanished by now. He let Orihime have her way with him, leading up to something which made him immensely glad he had- having her nails gently scrub his scalp and free all the grime that had dried in his hair was nothing short of indescribable. He'd approached this situation thinking that it would feel no different from when he washed his own hair, uncomfortable and unremarkable in any way, but- yet again- this woman had proven him completely wrong._

_Orihime smiled as she felt the tenseness in Ulquiorra steadily trickle away, and his breathing slow a bit. She took a moment to etch this into her mind- this was probably the most relaxed she'd ever seen the arrancar in all her months of being in his presence. The hand that had been repetitively twitching and drumming its fingers nervously at not being able to complete its typical, habitual movement was still as she heard his breath push out and pull in deeply. She knew he hadn't fallen asleep, and also that he was likely fighting it despite being undoubtedly drop-dead tired. Combing the conditioner through his now clean hair, she made a botched attempt at stifling a yawn. Orihime stood and left the room briefly to refill the bowl with clean water, and upon reentering found Ulquiorra's two emerald eyes insistently tracking her path across the room back to him. _

_A bit unsettled by his intensity, she busied herself with rinsing the remaining conditioner out of his hair. Satisfied it was all out, she used the last towel to put in place of his pillow. It wasn't like soul society had hair dryers or anything, so Ulquiorra was going to have to deal with letting his hair air-dry for a bit. Glancing at the hollow mask remnant that she'd set aside earlier, Orihime proceeded to clean the filth from the grooves of the half helmet carefully. The mess came off easily, as though the mask itself had a problem with being dirty too. Setting it back down, still being careful with it by nature, she dumped all the bottles into the bowl and pushed them aside. That thorn in her side gone, Orihime concentrated on her Sōten Kisshun, eyes closing as her gentle power hummed through her._

_Ulquiorra's eyes wandered back to her face after a time. In that locked tower where they'd kept her, the only expressions he'd ever seen on her features had been fear or despair. Her face wasn't anguished at the moment, like it had been in Las Noches- rather, she gave off the visage of being content, or even a little pleased. It was a complete flip from the utter hopelessness he'd been accustomed to. Still, as he followed the slight furrow in her slender brow as she concentrated, he knew something still nagged at her, and it bugged him that in spite of both of them being alive she remained upset over something._

"Woman. We are both alive, your friends have survived, and the war is over. What can you possibly sad for?" _His voice broke the long silence, snapping Orihime out of her preoccupation, the shield flickering for an instant._

"What can I… I don't believe you. I save your ass from being a pile of soot, and you have to go and almost kill yourself again to get me here_." She seemed to be somewhat startled at her little outburst, and taking back control of her emotions, her voice softened a bit._ "I…I don't want anyone to get hurt anymore, especially not because of me. And because you brought me here, now you're…" _Orihime motioned to Murciélago across the room, his injuries, and the bindings connected to the bed all in one generalized swish of her hand._"I don't think they'll kill you. But I don't know what they have in store for you Ulquiorra, and it's my fault you're trapped here at all. I-I'm sorry."

_With this said Orihime turned and sat, leaning her weight against the bed side as her abilities continued to alleviate the worst of the ex Espada's wounds. Ulquiorra fixed his eyes on the moon outside the window, so different from Hueco Mundo's moon in the fact that it was surrounded by stars, not hanging there in solitude. It wasn't alone, and as Ulquiorra breathed out, he saw that neither was he. _

"…Thank you for saving me."

* * *

So? How was it? My first chapter of my first story, but I don't think I bombed it...right? Share your thoughts please, I'm open and eager for criticism :3

[And by the way, I'll probably resubmit this once I've got all the chapters and whole story written out and edited and all nice and pretty and stuff. (the completed thing will probably be...mmm...I'll say a bit more than 20,000 words? Unless you want me to submit the next chapter now, I could just edit that...)]


	2. And I have to LIVE here?

~New chapter! Because I got AWESOME reviews that made me very happy, which motivated me to start updating this as I sit here typing at 4:07 AM. Special thinks to those who've reviewed; Mika, venG, and The Form Of True Despair. venG was amazing enough to actually PM me with some errors in my last chapter! :D The Form Of True Despair, I was using enter to space my paragraphs out a bit in the edit/preview document thing here on FF net, but when I saved it it was right back the way it was. Help? I don't know how to make it be more separated ;-; (but your review was gladly acknowledged! I tried, but it didn't work. I just need a little help ^^;) Mika, although no critique (which is 100% ok!), made me feel super happy because they reviewed at all, which is definitely something! :) So even if its a "Your story is cool", that's good enough because it lets me know there are people out there who enjoyed it, which motivates me to write more of it. But of course I don't know unless you tell me ;P So if you want me to improve/change my writing, you'll have to critique a little and tell me what to change. Thank you!~

Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach. If I did, awesome characters would stop dropping like flies : /

* * *

_Ulquiorra paced angrily in short lengths across the linoleum, and although he was in his full Espada uniform (freshly washed and mended, thankfully) he made no sound. He was healed, dammit! Why was he still here, still locked to this stupid bed? He'd start getting ulcers if he continued to sit for one second more._

"Oh, stop pacing! They promised you they'd let you out today, remember? They don't want you hurting yourself again." _The voice drifted over to him from a chair in the corner of the room; Orihime reclined on it and shuffled around with an odd multicolored block-shaped object. He ignored the cube in favor of reprimanding her._

"I'm… was, an Espada. I possess the ability to quickly regenerate; going on a walk to get out of here for even an hour won't kill me." _He mumbled pointedly, tripping over the fact that he wasn't an Espada- not any more._

"Just….. mess with this in the meantime. I'll go and see what's taking them so long to get the ok to let you out." _Orihime said exasperatedly._

_She tossed the block at Ulquiorra, studying him as he smoothly caught it with three long, spindly fingers as though any more than that was a waste of energy to use. She stood, chair dragging across the floor with a grating noise. She cringed visibly at the sound and whispered _"Any longer in here and I'll be crawling the walls too."_ before plodding towards the door. She opened it and kept it open for him, knowing some of the outside air would blow in and keep him from going stir crazy for a time. Ulquiorra watched her go and his eyes flicked down to the cube she'd tossed him. What in the world was this thing's purpose? _

_He turned it over and scrutinized it, before noticing one of the sides was sticking out a bit unevenly. He pushed it, and it slid around to leave a whole new set of colors in its place. Intrigued, Ulquiorra tried pulling another section, elated to find it slid around same as the last. Being locked up in a hospital room for a day or so would render any form of entertainment, no matter how simple, a welcome relief. He knew if someone had told him he'd be sitting chained to a bed in a hospital room in Soul Society playing with a square days ago, he'd have done nothing more than stare at them, and consider the stability of their mentality. _

_But now? If he wasn't so eager for something, anything to do, he'd be horrified with himself. In Las Noches there had always been something to pass the time with- go on some mission, kill some Adjuchas, _something_. Being confined to a mostly small room with little range of movement allowed to him had near bored him to death- Orihime surely would have been upset to have him die of boredom so soon after saving him. Absentmindedly pushing and rotating rows and columns of colors, he knew what the objective had to be- get all the same colors to match on the same face. He strode over to the closest wall the bindings would allow him to and leaned against it, engrossed in his new toy. Who knew this "Made in China" cube could be so entertaining?_

_Orihime walked past shinigami, some still on the mend and others fully healed- few had escaped completely unscathed. Reaching the doors that she knew behind which the captain commander would be seated at his desk, she hesitated. Dragging back some of the courage that had fled screaming she knocked on the big wooden slab, with simple, yet elegant designs carved upon it. _

"Enter."

_That one word made Orihime want to do the exact opposite all the more, but it was too late now. Pushing her weight against the stone-heavy door, she budged it open enough to squeeze through. Letting her slate-gray gaze wander across the room, she saw General Yamamoto leaning over a rail on the balcony nearby, an ancient sentinel looking out over soul society. Orihime opened her mouth to speak, but the captain commander beat her to it._

"The ex Espada. He is becoming impatient with this captivity, is he not? But were I to set him free, who is to guarantee he wouldn't launch an immediate assault upon Soul Society?" _The commander's voice rumbled, rough with age._

"I-I….. I've spoken with him, and am…. Well acquainted with him. He doesn't lie, and when I asked him if he intended to seek revenge, all he did was scoff and say there wasn't any point in it- he didn't feel any remorse that Aizen was dead in the slightest. It's not right to keep Ulquiorra here when he's been given another chance like this." _Orihime's voice trembled, but gained confidence as she pressed on bravely._

"Not right? Not right to keep detained a potential threat to the balance of our entire world?"

_Orihime was caught off guard by this but knew, despite the risks of freeing Ulquiorra that nobody, ex Espada or otherwise, deserved to spend their days in a sealed room._ "N….No. No, it isn't. Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Even when the lives of thousands hang in the balance? Are you personally willing to take responsibility for any regrettable actions he may take?" _The commander turned towards her, lifting an eyebrow in question._

"Yes." _Orihime said solidly. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she ended up saving Ulquiorra only to have him waste away in a cell- just like she would have, had someone not come for her; everyone needed a savior at times._

"Hrmph… child, I do not trust this arrancar. I cannot fathom how you are able to. But I won't allow him complete freedom until he has truly proven his intentions of peace. Urahara created the Hōgyoku…. I suppose then that I will have him deal with a result of that accursed object. Take this….Ulquiorra back with you to the world of the living. If he displays adverse behavior, then he will be eradicated immediately. Now go. I am sure he wishes to break out of those cuffs at long last." _The commander waved a hand dismissively, turning back to his perusal of Soul Society._

"Y-yes, thank you commander! I'll keep him in line, I promise!" _Orihime cried gratefully._

_She skittered from the room, a bundle of emotions that were savagely fighting each other to take over as the dominant one. Fear fought with dread, relief with worry, but anxiousness destroyed them all. Ulquiorra, blending with humans? …Well, if he really did want to live, he'd better find a way to deal with it that didn't involve killing or otherwise maiming anything._

_Upon approaching the open door to his room, Orihime made her steps a bit more profound- she couldn't knock on an open door after all. Surmising he couldn't have possibly not heard her, she stepped through the doorway and found….nobody. Panic tore through her for an instant, and she whipped her head around searching for him, her bright orange hair arcing around behind her like dyed water kicked up from a pond side by an exuberant dog. Through her alarm, she heard an insistent "click. Clickclickclick. Click-chak." And felt her heart skip a beat, then relax as she saw him sitting against the wall, his attention so focused on the Rubik's cube he hadn't heard her even though she'd purposely made extra noise. _

"You must be REALLY bored if you're that into the Rubik's cube." _Orihime taunted, fighting to keep the grin off her face._

_Ulquiorra's head snapped up, almost impaling the protruding pointed piece of his mask into the wall. Realizing there was no way to claim he in fact HAD NOT been interested in the confounding little square, he merely frowned and muttered_ _forlornly_ "Well? May I leave?"

"Yeah, but on …on a few conditions, of course…" _Orihime grew serious again, fidgeting with her orange hair, nervously tugging on the ends. Ulquiorra immediately squashed the desire to groan and instead nodded, prompting her to continue._

"You've got to come back to the material world with me and live with Urahara while blending in with humans peacefully to prove that you won't betray Soul Society or go around killing stuff or anything, but really I don't think it'll be that bad, I mean how bad could it be…..." _She babbled._ _The ex Espada blinked. The slew of words had been rushed, but once he made sense of the run-on sentence he wanted to kill something. The feeling of anger made him all the more affronted with himself- he shouldn't be galled, he should be just what he'd always been; Nothing. Nothingness had been his personal little piece of death. Perhaps that piece had been lost when he'd been given another chance at "life". Orihime's voice poked his off-on-a-tangent-conscious back to attention and he refocused on what she was saying._

"…and you can keep the cube. So grab your sword…er… Murciélago, was it?" _Orihime stuttered glancing at the blade, fitted in a light green, lacquered sheath. Orihime couldn't resist as she watched as the ex Espada seemed to give the bracelets a mere tug and they shattered. Ulquiorra pocketed the cube as inconspicuously as he could, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left (he wasn't through with the device yet) and stepped across the floor, sandals crunching on the shards of seki seki as he practically hugged his sword, tucking it at his side. He and his sword weren't close as companions, but more as comrades. For the most part he trusted the sword to serve him to its fullest capabilities, and the sword in turn expected him to use its power appropriately. They spoke little, but it wasn't accurate to say they were indifferent to one another- merely not as close as others were with their blades. _

_Murciélago was simply adorned, but its simplicity complemented its elegance- the tsuka had the typical diamond pattern most __Zanpakutō __did on the hilt, but still somehow created the impression of having a personality of its own. Sinisterly, wickedly sharp looking despite being sheathed, Murciélago's presence made Orihime uneasy- there hovered a cloud of despair, engulfing the sword, threatening to draw in any nearby life and mercilessly crush it. Was the sword always this gloomy? She should ask Ulquiorra to materialize it sometime- company would do it good. Tearing her gaze from the blade, her eyes met Ulquiorra's. _

_Quickly breaking the stare and turning to leave, knowing he would follow (sadly, he had little choice) Orihime traveled towards the area of Soul Society that housed the enormous __Senkaimon __gates leading between worlds. Orihime never heard the arrancar move behind her, but she would always see the sweep of his white coat out of her peripheral vision. The few shinigami who she passed began to raise their hands and form a greeting in their throats but then they'd see the stoic, pale arrancar behind her close to glaring daggers at the whole of Soul Society, and their hands would falter, performing a weak, jittery wave before they hurried in the opposite direction of the two as fast as possible._

_Ulquiorra followed after her in his typical way of being silent, occasionally brushing his hand along the hilt of Murciélago. Being parted from the katana, even if the distance was but a few feet, had left him feeling rather defenseless. Having it back was comforting, to say the least. The buildings of Soul Society were elegant in a simple way and if he weren't so irked, he'd have acknowledged how well Murciélago would have fit in with this place had things turned out differently, with him as a soul reaper rather than an Espada. The notion was a staggering one; something for thinking over in one's spare time- now wasn't the proper time or place. The building's tiled roofs accommodated the lesser experienced shinigami, providing footing for those who hadn't yet mastered Shunpo while, likely for the purpose of confusing enemies, doors barely stood out from the surrounding wall. _

_But between the buildings and the sky- seeing the sun was incredibly out of place and even a bit disconcerting for him, considering the never-ending night of Hueco Mundo- the only other thing to look at was Orihime; not a bad thing at all, his mind teasingly supplied, much to his chagrin. Unlike the form-fitting dress she'd worn in Las Noches the shinigami robes did her body little justice, and it was suggested she consciously agreed, pulling the overly large sleeves up occasionally. Also, he noted, her hand would drift up to toy with the ends of her sunset hair, only to gingerly move up to the now fading bruise under her eye (which luckily she still had.) At this Ulquiorra felt regret, just as acutely as back in the hospital room, and had to stop himself from reaching out to take the woman's hand away from her eye, if only to alleviate the acknowledgement of his mistake through her movements. This impulse bothered him- he'd never felt it before. How much was a simple realization going to continue to change him?_

_At last the gates loomed overhead before them, and Orihime finished exchanging pleasantries and permissions with the guards of the Senkaimon before looking away as the blinding light spilled forth from the parting doors. Orihime practically trotted through, but Ulquiorra hesitated a moment- would he go blind? It was so unnecessarily bright…..he chided himself for his hesitation, and peeved at himself for acting so…so _human_, he strode forward. Arrancar or no, he still needed to hold a hand up to shield his eyes against the incredibly intense light as he entered the Dangai, where it thankfully dimmed to a pallor, mucky purple. They were giving the two of them a private passage? Ulquiorra looked at the gooey purple walls warily- this passage was private, perhaps to prevent any complications Ulquiorra could cause in the widely used one, but that didn't mean it was safe; far from it, he saw, as the walls writhed in apparent anger at the intruders. The floor rippled, and the walls groaned and screamed viciously as they began sealing up behind them, in an attempt to destroy the unknown entities. Ulquiorra made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat; apparently, the first test of his loyalty was to get the woman and himself safely out of this little scrape. Hm. Clever of Soul Society. Reckless, but clever._

_Orihime whipped around, hearing the clamor and having time for a quick _"Oh no, not again."_ before there was a slight boom, the purple around her became blurred, and an arm tightly wrapped around her waist and dragged her along. Making no effort to lose precious time to conceal the sound a sonido would normally make had a high-ranking Espada not been the one using it, Ulquiorra had grabbed Orihime as carefully as one could whilst being chased by an undulating wall of something for which he had no name. The light far off at the end of the tunnel struck him as being ironic, almost mockingly symbolizing mortal's portrayal of death as the tunnel roared with rage and slammed closed faster and faster behind them. _

_"There is no time for this. I don't have a choice." Ulquiorra thought, and drew Murciélago, ordering the command to release as quickly as was possible. The katana complied, vanishing as it instead integrated its power into the first form of Resurrección. Sparing no time to care if Orihime would faint from being crushed by his spiritual pressure, being crushed by the arm he kept wrapped tightly around her waist, or simply out of fear, he sprang up lithely, wings slicing through the diminishing air space in the closing tunnel. The tunnel's roar grew louder, as though howling in frustration as it gained on them, but more slowly than it had been. _

_The end of the dimensional twist in space drew closer, and Ulquiorra pumped his wings harder. This irksome tunnel- It was infuriatingly persistent. Ulquiorra was again struck with nostalgia; the end of the tunnel never looked like it got any closer to you no matter how much you traveled, and the same was so for Las Noches. The wall of whatever it was panted behind them, almost in a satisfied manner. Did it truly think it had won? But as it continued to bite at their heels, Ulquiorra was forced to consider if he could get out of this dammed place without releasing his second form. It was a tunnel for chrissakes! He shouldn't need to bother releasing all the way over a tunnel! It aggravated him, but the added weight had slowed him down considerably and made flying more awkward- it's not like he'd made a habit of carrying people, and wasn't used to the feeling. Ulquiorra bared his teeth in rage, and parted his lips to fully release, but was interrupted by Orihime breathlessly shouting _"Don't! If your tail gets caught it'll pull us in, then were both doomed!"

_Well that was all nice and fine, but if he didn't release all the way, they'd be doomed anyways. _"Then you will heal the severed remains when we end up wherever this ridiculous thing leads."_ Ulquiorra had had his leg, arm, wing, and entire lower body lopped off recently- a more minor extremity like his tail wouldn't be as bad. Shifting into a creature of nightmares Ulquiorra exploded easily out of the tunnel, leaving only the end of his tail in the clutches of the gurgling mass of goo. Punching through the barrier of light, the Dangai behind him screamed in fury at its prey's escape. _

_The ground rushed up to meet the two as Ulquiorra was thrown off balance due to the Dangai having practically spit them out in indignation, and he managed to twist in midair so he slammed back-first into a rock, Orihime clutched out of harm's way. The cracking of the rock echoed, telling Ulquiorra two things. One, this was an enclosed space and two, these rocks were pathetically weak. He hadn't made a sound, for he'd been thrown at harder surfaces with far more force than this before. Pulling himself out of the Ulquiorra-shaped hole that had been made as the dust settled, he drifted easily to the ground. Even a short look at Orihime implied her being a little shell shocked from the sudden adrenaline, and she swayed a bit when the ex Espada's arm released its bruising grip from around her stomach and set her carefully on the ground. _

_Orihime dimly found herself glad that she hadn't eaten anything before they'd left. She pieced her thoughts back together enough to remember the arrancar standing beside her who'd just slammed into a rock and had his tail partially severed. Finally her brain caught up to her eyes, and Orihime gaped up at the massive boulder. Ulquiorra had hurt the boulder more than it had him she realized, noting how he tried to brush off the painful discomfort of missing a limb by sweeping the crumbled rock fragments out of his hair and fur. Well, luckily he hadn't had the two trails of fur that swept down from his lower back clipped- that would definitely look awkward._

_"Aah! Le- let me take care of that!" Orihime floundered and swiftly called for the her healing shield, the light that was being used too much on injured people recently flashing into existence. Ulquiorra merely folded his arms across his chest and watched with a morbid sort of interest as first the bone was regenerated, and then the blood, muscles, and skin. Watching the blood had been the most interesting by far though- it had coated the bone and stayed suspended there, waiting for the vessels, muscle, and skin that would keep it contained. His tail reformed quickly- obviously the woman's powers were far more potent whenever the situation was serious and she was well rested. _

_Stretching the newly restored limb, satisfied, Ulquiorra took stock of the location. It was obviously an underground room, immensely large; so large that whoever had built it had painted it to resemble the outdoors, presumably to give it a more "natural" atmosphere. Ulquiorra heard the "clunk" of an opening of a hatch and the "fwsh" of a Shunpo, and before he had time to react, a blade was pressed against his throat and a palm dug into the space between his wings- the person behind him obviously knew enough hand to hand combat to not require a sword. _

_The person in front of him immediately struck Ulquiorra as entirely odd- blond hair was crammed down under a ludicrous striped hat, and a haori far too big for him and more like sleeping wear hung from his shoulders. Ulquiorra had to suppress the ghost of a smile as he glanced at the amusing choice in footwear. One hand held the end of the sword. The other held a lollipop, of all things. But the only thing about this man that indicated any amount of seriousness at all were his eyes; his eyes spoke of years of experience and knowledge and proved that despite his appearance, he wasn't one to be dubbed a pushover by any stretch of the imagination. Ulquiorra was abruptly struck with a memory he'd long since filed away as completely unimportant- he knew this odd man, if vaguely; he was the one who'd severed Yammy's arm._

_Again Orihime's train of thought struggled to keep up with the all-too-quickly unfolding events, and she stuttered out a desperate "W-wait!", wedging herself between Ulquiorra and Urahara. Yoruichi was still in a defensive stance behind the arrancar, and although Urahara had lowered his Zanpakutō, he still kept It drawn and raised up, now closer to Orihime than it was to the ex Espada- it was likely he didn't realize this though, startled at Orihime's defense of the nightmarish looking arrancar- this was inferred from the mouth being opened in a slight "o" and widened eyes. Snarling lightly Ulquiorra pulled Orihime a bit closer to his side and away from the blade, daring either of them to attack._

_ Orihime's mind blanked for a moment when she felt herself tugged against Ulquiorra's side protectively, but after her brain had clawed its way up out of the mental hole it had fallen into, it picked back up double-time. Her brain had been failing her at critical moments a lot recently, it seemed. "He can't possibly care about my well being- It's not like I'm his responsibility any longer. And yet, why is he….?" Unexpectedly, the fur covering Ulquiorra's lower half and arms was soft- not coarse, like she'd expect would fit a terrifying form like this. But Orihime's attention was drawn back to the matter at hand as she realized Ulquiorra was snarling. This certainly wasn't off to the best start. _"Ssh!"_ Orihime hissed and, just as Ulquiorra had done, brought the back of her hand to his mouth to silence him. Again she was blown away at the fact that she could do this and not have her hand chopped off. Apparently, upon finding a heart, human emotions had been dragged out of him with it. All the better for her hand, she supposed._

_ Before Ulquiorra could find the time to be miffed, Orihime jumped in to stop the situation from coming to blows. _"Urahara-san! Yoruichi-san! He's not an enemy!"_ Ulquiorra doubted Orihime heard it, but his ears easily picked up the sharp inhalations from the two shinigami. His snarling had been effectively stopped, he realized belatedly, and he was now reduced to glowering at the odd one- "Urahara". He could still feel the warmness on his lips left behind from when the woman had removed her hand, and it confused him. He should have been enraged that a human dare touch him, but everything recently- allowing her to wash his hair, forcing him to lay down while she healed him, and now shushing him without reprimand- none of it bothered him. _

"…_But…..Why?" _

_The shinigami faltered but at length, Urahara lowered his sword and the hand between Ulquiorra's wings disappeared. The one who had been behind him flash-stepped beside Urahara, and critically regarded him. Ulquiorra returned her stare with his peculiar, yellow-set-in-black-eyes. He vaguely knew this one as well, from the same time and place as he knew the man wearing the ridiculous hat. He rapped a clawed foot along the dirt ground, making no more than a quiet "Ffff. Ffff. Ffff." in the sediment. Ulquiorra's tail swung around to his front, winding its length around his leg a few times before it relaxed, the tip swaying side to side slowly. No reason to kick up all the dust down here and need to suffer through taking a bath and peeling away the bandages still glued into his healing wounds, after all. His wings drew in slowly, he not wanting to instigate another attack; with his wings folded, the ex Espada looked more normally sized, and certainly less threatening. He found, not at all to his displeasure, that he hadn't yet relinquished his hold on Orihime, and decided until these two death gods relaxed enough to put their weapons away he wouldn't let her budge._

_Orihime tried not to squirm- but the sheer closeness of the arrancar had her head spinning. He smelled almost like sun-warmed stone; a scent not known unless previously experienced for oneself. But past the stone, there was something dark- some dark, sharp scent like…like crushed mint leaves. Tearing her focus away from the way-too-close ex Espada, she looked pointedly at Urahara's sword and Yoruichi's still slightly raised hands. Orihime had quickly figured out that she wouldn't be let go, unless the danger level in the area dropped until Ulquiorra was satisfied she would be fine. Appearing to comprehend Orihime's look Urahara sheathed his sword, and playfully smacked Yoruichi's hands to her sides. The purple haired woman hissed at Urahara, but it was so fast it had Ulquiorra wondering whether he'd been hearing things. _

"Did soul society never inform you of our departure for here, Urahara-san?" _Orihime questioned hat-and-clogs. _

_The shopkeeper looked pensive for a bit, and then his face lit up as he remembered; _"Ah yes! Perhaps that was what that hell butterfly had wanted. I shooed it away; I'd been busy eating."_ Orihime nodded and twittered out a nervous laugh. _

"Well, speaking of eating, I do believe my noodles are getting cold."_ With this said, Urahara decided that warm noodles trumped a dangerous arrancar in his basement and turned and flash -stepped up and out the hatch. Shaking her head with a sigh, Yoruichi followed._

"Er….that went well?"_ Orihime tried, still held against Ulquiorra's side. Snorting, Ulquiorra jumped up and leisurely soared towards the exit, carting Orihime along with almost no extra effort. Holding in her yelp of pain as her new bruises were pressed on again, Orihime watched as the rocks littering the ground grew smaller and less defined, and the ceiling came closer with every beat of the arrancar's powerful wings._

_Why was he bothering to carry her when he could have been up the hatch in less than a second?_

_Hmph. Why WAS he bothering to carry the woman when she could have made it up the hatch herself? Why did he want to prolong holding her as long as possible? He finally understood what a heart was, but that didn't mean he himself had one….did it?_

_Why, why, why. Recently that one small, three letter word was all either of them were asking._

_Reaching the upper end of the ladder, his wings thumped the air rhythmically to keep him hovering in mostly one place. Perhaps true bats couldn't hover, but a modified Espada could improvise well enough. Placing Orihime on the ladder somewhat reluctantly, he gave a murmured command of _"Go. I'll be up shortly." _and peeled off in a gradual dive, for once not wanting to land. Orihime was about to duck through the opening in the ceiling, but stopped long enough to see the contemplative look on Ulquiorra's face as he performed a loose spiral; as though he'd reached some sort of "Huh. This is different, but I kinda like it." realization._

_Watching as the woman pulled herself through the hatch, Ulquiorra turned his dive into a loop, feeling oddly…satisfied..? as he performed a movement that used to have no effect on him whatsoever. When he'd discovered his heart, thanks to that woman, he'd obviously broken a boundary never crossed for arrancar- his shinigami side had been pulled into the limelight where it quivered, begging to be allowed to return to the shadows once more. But, once known, always known- Ulquiorra could try to stuff the human emotions into a corner, and although he sure as hell would try, he knew that inevitably those human feelings would eventually stop shaking and start to grow more and more bold. He wouldn't be able to shove them aside forever, but he'd definitely stifle them for as long as he could. He was still the 4__th__ Espada, emotions awakened or no- a mistake such as letting his emotions get the best of him was inconceivable. He cursed them for managing to be this dominant over him already, and it had barely been the span of a few days. He almost wished he could go back to being ignorant- it had been impossible for emotions to even exist within him before he'd found his heart. Hadn't it? Or had they been there, but he'd ignored them then too?_

_Completing the loop, Ulquiorra landed on the ladder and, without bothering to reseal his resurrection form, climbed lithely through the hole. His claws made sharp, even clicks as he walked down the hall, his wings brushed against the walls, and his tail still snaking out of the hatch even though he was more than a yard from it. Following the smell of noodles, he emerged in the sitting room. Yoruichi was stretched lazily over two pillows and Urahara was sucking down noodles faster than he could swallow. Orihime sat at the opposite end of the table, watching the two with a soft, familiar smile. Shuffling his wings on purpose so he wouldn't scare the woman shitless when he suddenly sat on the cushion next to her without a sound, he too watched as the shopkeeper downed chopstickfull after chopstickfull of noodles. _

_Catching Orihime's eye, he found her normally fair colored cheeks to be splashed with a slight red the longer he maintained eye contact. This only caused him to unconsciously lean forward and study her even more intently- what a curious reaction. Did it have significance? Obviously the reaction involved him, considering she quickly broke the gaze and flushed even more. Interesting. He'd have to find out more about this strange reaction. The brief exchange of eye contact had luckily gone unnoticed by the two shinigami, the female having fallen asleep while the other continued to gorge himself. Smirking, Ulquiorra leaned over to Orihime and whispered "Do you suppose he takes the time to breathe in between bites?" Again the red blossomed delicately across her face, but this time it was accompanied by a smothered laugh; Ulquiorra had a point- she hadn't seen him take a breath since he'd started eating about a minute ago. _

_Orihime had deigned no mention that one of the trails of fur sweeping behind Ulquiorra that began at his lower back was currently against her leg, soft and warm. It was tempting as hell to touch, and Orihime simply couldn't resist, so she did. Ulquiorra felt the hand furtively thread itself through the swath of black fur, and he held in a sharp intake of breath. He'd never been petted before, for obvious reasons, but found that it was rather nice to have someone absently running their hand across your fur. He distantly realized that sentence would sound peculiar coming from anyone else's mouth. At last the nail grating sound of slurping echoed inside the confines of the Styrofoam cup, and with a bloated _"Bwaaah…"_ noise, Urahara set the cup down and lurched up and into the kitchen again. Returning with a tray stained with an unidentifiable grayish substance, he set the holder down, three teas sitting innocently upon their enigmatic perch. Often procuring abnormal foods herself, Orihime pulled the mystery tea towards her with a bright "Thanks!" before taking a sip. _

_Although Orihime had been a scapegoat for the abhorrent looking tea, Ulquiorra hadn't known she'd be so complacent with tossing it back. What did she eat on a daily basis that would let her see this ghastly mixture as nonthreatening? Suspiciously eyeing the tea, Ulquiorra dared a sip. Well…ok, it wasn't half bad. Urahara, pleased that his two mostly uninvited guests had at least sampled the brew, took a sip of his own. To a person on the outside looking in, this would be an incredibly strange picture; a woman with shocking purple sprawled out sleeping, while an unusually dressed man sat sipping a cup of tea. To the left of him, a girl with equally shocking orange hair sat also sipping tea. But the strangest was the demonic looking figure, who sampled the brew contemplatively rather than doing something more befitting one of his form, such as going on a killing spree or bringing about the end of the world. As Urahara continued to drain his cup of tea, Orihime chose this bad moment to break the news to him._

"So, Urahara-san, Ulquiorra here will be staying in the shop as per orders from Commander General Yamamoto-sama."

_A spew of tea was launched up into Urahara's face as he snuffed into the cup in shock. Simultaneously, although much more well concealed, Ulquiorra resisted the urge to hack up the bit of tea that he'd inhaled when he heard the Orihime speak his name with a lack of a suffix, honorific, or anything. But he could hardly be hypocritical- he'd only ever called her "woman", for the no-longer-used reason of not considering her worth an honorific. When had his opinion of her changed? As Ulquiorra watched her smile sheepishly with a strange intentness, it looked as though things were still changing._

_Regaining composure, Urahara glanced between the two. _"I'm being forced to put up an ex Espada in my shop?"

"Well, the commander general's argument towards that was you having sort of caused it by-"

"Creating the Hōgyoku that started all this crap in the beginning, right?" _Urahara cut in, now analyzing the arrancar more thoroughly. _

_ Deliberately bringing the end of his tail curling up into his hands to be absently wiped clean of any dirt, Ulquiorra never broke eye contact with the shopkeeper. He also shifted his silky black wings around a little, to add to the impression of not being human. Urahara's eyed dropped to the tail, and then to Ulquiorra's midnight colored wings, finally speaking._

"Well, as long as he doesn't frolic through town looking like that, I suppose I don't mind anyways; the commander general's going to have to do better than this to get me back. You can take the spare room down that hall there Ulquiorra-san, but it might smell a tad funny. I'd suggest buying an air freshener or something." _Standing, Urahara leisurely swung his cane in the direction of the aforementioned hall._ _Both of his guests tried to contain abhorred looks- exactly _what_ was Urahara's definition of "funny", and why did it smell as such in the first place? Satisfied that one snippet of instructions was enough to get Ulquiorra by for a day or so until he had the motivation to deal with more in depth rules, the scientist poked Yoruichi. Not even bothering to twitch, the purple-haired shinigami merely rolled over and continued to sleep. Shrugging, Urahara started down another hallway, leaving the healer and the bat by themselves. _"I've got research that needs tending to now, so you two enjoy yourselves or whatever."

_The silence was palpable as the two watched the scientist retreat, stop suddenly, dash into the kitchen, and run back out and down the hallway carrying some package of food or another. _"How is he not a million pounds?"_ Orihime mumbled. Ulquiorra could only agree. Deciding he'd remained in his released state for long enough, he gave the silent command for Murciélago to reform as a blade. He felt his wings seem to fall off; his tail ceased to exist, rejoining with his spine as a normal tailbone, and the horn on the left side of his head moved over and merged with the right to reform the half-bone skull. The fur shed and disappeared, replaced by the usual espada robes. The entire process was rather unremarkable and took only a second or two. There were no dramatic booms, no bright lights, nothing. Everything simply reverted, and Murciélago materialized into his patiently waiting open palm. Orihime had watched the entire transformation, a mixture of awe and respect, it looked like, in her stormy eyes. But there was no fear._

_Realizing she'd been so openly staring, Orihime flailed around for an excuse to leave. _"Well uhhh….. I should be getting home; the celery leek pie probably went really bad while I was gone. I can help with air fresheners since I doubt Urahara has any here, but you'll have to wait until I can go shopping for them. Oh! And Tessai is a good cook- but if Jinta delivers the food be careful- he likely put something in it."_ With these few pointers on life in the Urahara shop, Orihime stood and padded over to the sliding door. _"I'll….see you at school I suppose? That sounded so weird to say…."_ Orihime offered, trailing off at the end. His face unchanging, Ulquiorra gave the barest of nods and an even _"Yes." _Smiling, Orihime skipped out of the store and even down the street from what Ulquiorra could hear. Heaving a ragged sigh born purely from stress and confusion Ulquiorra trudged to the "funny" smelling room, but still somehow retained the dignified, measured steps he constantly used._

_From her place sprawled across the cool shop floor, a black cat's lips twitched into a knowing smile. _

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Not as long as the last one, but I had to break it off here or else it would be weird. (this wasn't meant to be a chapter story actually) Reviews are welcome and will be showered with love, unless you ask me not to, but I don't know why you'd do that. :3 Critique makes me happy because it improves my writing ability and your reading experience, as I've said before, and I look forward to hearing all your thoughts, good or bad. Flames will be used to set my final exams on fire :3


	3. Coming To Terms

Sorry for the wait! D: writing block attacked my soul for most of this .; And again there aren't any spaces between paragraphs, because I don't know how! DX Someone tell meeeeee ;U;

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"Woman. Why are you still here?" asking was pointless, but Ulquiorra did so anyways.

Orihime yawned, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. It wasn't fast enough for Ulquiorra to miss the flash of blunt teeth, and he was again reminded of how fragile these creatures were; they possessed no natural weapons- they had inferior sight, smell, hearing, touch, and taste. It amazed him how they hadn't been wiped out long ago with physical prowess as limited as theirs was. Finished with her jaw cracking yawn, Orihime offered up a tired "I was talking with Urahara and fell asleep I guess. Sorry." and blinked slowly, still half asleep.

"Sorry for what?" Ulquiorra's head tilted, the predawn light reflecting weakly off the polished bone helmet, showing off the smooth perfection of the carapace. Did all humans make such little sense, or was it only her?

"Oh, I don't know; I'm tired right now and I'm sure I don't make much sense." Orihime said wearily, waving a hand through the air dismissively then bringing it down to rub an eye sleepily, and tugging the other through her messy orange locks. "I'm not going to be able to comprehend much this early in the day. I'll see you at school in an hour or so Ulquiorra." Orihime finished strangling her rebellious hair into an ambiguous sort of order, and then headed off in the direction of her apartment, comically tottering a few steps to the side before finding her center of balance again.

Shaking his head, Ulquiorra soundlessly lifted off into the air once more- a few extra minutes in his first release wouldn't hurt anything. Silently, he swooped down and locked his arms around Orihime's middle, using a sonido to shoot high enough into the sky so her scream would be lost in the vacuum of the wind. Asking if he could fly her home would be too much effort and her scream would have sent police running, so a surprise snatch was the easiest method. If he concentrated, Ulquiorra could feel her racing heart through her lower ribcage where he carried her gently- chances were Orihime didn't share in his opinion of the method he'd chosen being the best.

In spite of having not made a sound the last time he'd bruised her from dragging her around like this, he still knew she'd suffered from a tender midsection for a few days; so he made sure to be more attentive to how hard he was holding her this time- they weren't being attacked by a massive wall of purple muck, so he was in no rush. Indeed, he took his sweet time, the beats of his wings paced so far apart they might as well have been in slow motion. Feeling her heart decline from its breakneck pace, Ulquiorra looked down to see a very flat glare being shot at him.

"You almost gave me a heart attack. Where are we going?" Orihime grumbled, but relaxed into Ulquiorra's hold a little more.

"Yes, I can feel that I did almost give you a heart attack actually- my apologies" The ex Espada didn't sound the least bit apologetic; he sounded amused in fact. "And I'm taking you home. This isn't the….safest time to be out alone, and it gives me a reason to stay out longer anyways." Ulquiorra feigned aloofness, but watched in interest as the blood tainted her cheeks again. That is, until she glanced down at the scenery scrolling by, lights from houses lazily strolling past. Hmph. He'd make sure to find out why her face darkened like that- his curiosity wouldn't be sated until he knew.

Surprisingly, Ulquiorra was as warm as an average person despite his rather dead color. _"The arrancar's hierro must be selective or something, because Ulquiorra feels nice and soft."_ She thought. _"If an arrancar's hierro functioned all the time under all circumstances, how would they do simple things like holding pens and eating with chopsticks? They wouldn't be able to tell the pressure they were putting on the items, and would end up crushing them into dust. That, and it would feel like I was being hugged by a rock right now." _By now, Orihime ignored the unrelenting blush with moderate success.

The beat of Ulquiorra's wings could be felt all throughout his body, shuddering into Orihime with every smooth stroke that rent the air. Gazing at the world below, feeling the freedom of being suspended in the cool predawn air, it was no wonder Ulquiorra lived for moments like these- it was breathtaking. The sun laboriously hauled itself up over the edge of the Earth, shining its sleepy light over the still-waking land as though tired itself. Orihime expected to see the ground draw closer, but instead it got farther away. Ulquiorra flew up, bringing them above the layer of already thinning-in-the-early-light clouds. The air was thin and cold, attempting to freeze Orihime from the inside out with its chilled breath. The sun here was stronger and glinted off the suspended cumulus clouds, every fleck of water capturing every ray of light thrown at it and returning the ray twice as brilliantly, and some even adding a rainbow if seen from the right angle. This was a view some people would pay an arm and a leg to see in person, if for a moment.

Ulquiorra was puzzled by his own actions- why was he taking this woman up, instead of down? Why was he pleased when he heard and felt her badly hidden quick intake of breath? Why was he bothering to share the view with her? He mentally shook himself. He was acting like a _human_, which he no longer was. But the heart that beat in his chest and the slightest of smiles on his face argued otherwise. He flared his wings and spiraled slowly down, lighting atop the roof of the apartment. Hopefully nobody had seen the human floating down from the heavens, as he would have been invisible- not Orihime. He broke his hold on her the moment they touched ground, and stepped back, impassivity draped over his face as always.

"That was…incredible, Ulquiorra. Did you fly like that around Las Noches?" Orihime asked, much more awake than she'd been before he'd practically kidnapped her from the street.

"I did not." he stated emotionlessly.

"I see. And why has that changed?" Orihime challenged him, stepping forward a bit, head dipping to the side as her slate gray eyes studied his blank face.

"It has not." Ulquiorra lied, hearing Murciélago crack up within his mind at the foolish stubbornness he was presenting.

"Mhm. That's exactly why you _don't_ go flying every Wednesday and on weekends, and _didn't_ take the time to show me that view when you could have dropped me and been on your way, right?" Orihime smirked triumphantly as the arrancar's mouth opened, and then snapped shut again. The very fact that he was at a loss for words now was proof of how different he was.

"_I've changed. I'm still changing. Everything is moving too fast for me to keep up with for once."_ The words were on the tip of his tongue, fighting to get out, but Ulquiorra held them back fervently. These thoughts would never have dared to encroach upon his mind while an Espada- he wouldn't have stood for it. Being made to know how to feel, surely Ulquiorra had become weak. Emotion was a weakness, a hindrance- it brought no good, so why bother with it? Upon locking eyes with Orihime though, he knew it didn't matter if he shouted the word at the top of his lungs- he didn't have to say a thing, and this woman could STILL read his thoughts. And judging from the spark of understanding in her eyes, it was clear she'd read those words as easily as if he'd spoken them.

Ulquiorra had to hand it to her- she'd hit the nail on the head. She'd asked the same questions he'd been asking himself since he'd been dumped in this infernal place. He was rendered even more speechless when she reached out and flicked one of the bony horns extending from his bleach-white helmet playfully and chirped "See you in a bit!" before trotting into the entrance to the stairwell leading down to her apartment. Shaking himself of his stupor, he lighted from the rooftop, soaring back to the shop on silent black wings. All the while Ulquiorra could feel Murciélago's amusement at him; much to his irritation- it certainly was not funny! He might be becoming more in sync with human emotions every second, but he retained enough of his old tendencies to loathe the feel of feeling.

Just as the sun managed to pull itself fully over the edge of the Earth, Ulquiorra landed gracefully outside the Urahara shop. Shedding his wings, the Espada uniform replaced the long, eerie robe of his first release. His helmet split in half, and he cringed; it always subconsciously reminded of the first time his mask had ever cracked and half split off. The resealing of Murciélago, the bottling up of that true power, it came at a price; albeit a small one (a broken mask) yet an annoying one at most. The bone scaffold crumbled into dust, the wind carrying it away on tender fingers to be dispersed among the world once more. Ulquiorra watched the particles float off, contemplating… everything. Everything he'd ever thought he'd known had been questioned, every "foolproof" method he'd stood by challenged, and without these foundations on which to base his actions off of, he was left balancing on the edge of a knife. He could let these side effects of the knowledge he'd gleaned continue to draw him in, or he could cut the hydra's body before this head of problems split and divided into an even greater predicament.

Bringing Murciélago up to eye level with him, Ulquiorra silently asked the glinting metal _"which?"_ Murciélago gave him what he felt was akin to a bop on the head from the inside of his skull rather than the outside, and a mental image of the look on the woman's face when he'd shared the sky with her was rudely pushed at his mind's eye. "You think I should let change take me. What good will it do?" he murmured, running a finger along the flat of the blade, a slice of his own reflection staring back. It seemed too late for Ulquiorra to decide the want to change, for he appeared to have already done so; the absolute apathy gone, replaced with only a cold expression.

Yet, even that was emotion of a sort. The old guise of total blankness could still be called upon he found to his relief, but consciously would he need to do so for it to always be in place. Turning the katana, it caught the light and glimmered dully- Murciélago had never been one for flagrant displays of power, but after such a long time of sealing had eagerly overdone things during its battle with Ichigo. It's pent up energy released, Murciélago was much the same as its master- inconspicuous, but with an underlying power that demanded submission or in the least, respect. At peace with his decision for whether he'd admit it or not, the blade's opinion meant much to him, he sheathed Murciélago and swept into the shop, satisfied now that he had some semblance of a plan.

Soundlessly walking in, he stopped short at his gigai's undignified position- it lay sprawled across the floor, snoring quietly, a teddy bear tucked innocently under its arm. It was disturbing to see a body in the likeness of his own like this. Ulquiorra reminded himself for the umpteenth time to ask Urahara exactly WHY he'd chosen THIS mod soul. Were all mod souls this defective? Snagging the soul extracting glove that lay atop a nearby rack of chips, he tossed it at the mod soul, not willing to disgrace himself by actually putting the glove on and removing the soul directly. The glove slapped on the mod soul's face, and it flailed comically for a moment before the soul pill shot out and hit the wall, creating a slight dent. The gigai sat there vacantly, waiting for an occupant, its dazed stare unfocused. Ulquiorra reluctantly merged with the fake body, feeling as if he was drugged.

Out the window, all the way down the street, a person walked by. But in this pathetic human body, all he could make out was a smudge of color. Instead of being able to hear traffic on the major road outside of town, all he could hear was the rhythmic swishing of the fan that spun lazily overhead, and even that sounded muted. Being what he naturally was, the essence of a bat inexplicably intertwined within himself, his hearing was something he relied on almost before even eyesight (which, he was grateful for every day, wasn't nearly as bad as a bat's.) He could smell literally close to nothing, only the usual strange mustiness of the shop managing to be powerful enough for him to pick up. The only things about this body that weren't inferior were its ability to taste and touch- they were _almost_ on par with his normal form's.

"_But still inferior. As are the humans themselves."_ Ulquiorra reminded himself. The gigai had already dressed itself in the school's required attire, but had done the buttons on the shirt horribly wrong. "How is it possible to mess up buttoning a shirt?" Ulquiorra grumbled, fixing the failed attempt at decency by the mod soul. Picking the soul pill up off the floor, he glowered at it and tossed it from palm to palm, imagining the little soul inside to be getting thrown about. "Learn to button a shirt. Really, it isn't a hard thing to do." Ulquiorra lectured the pill, hoping it could hear him. Grabbing the folders he carried with him- he would never lower himself to wearing a backpack- he turned to leave. Stepping through the door, he almost jumped when the cat woman's voice floated tauntingly out from the kitchen.

"Have fun in school with Orihime -chan today, Ulqui-kun. And Urahara left a shopping list for you pinned to the door." You could easily hear the smirk in her voice.

Ulquiorra wasn't sure what to be more enraged about- the pet name he'd just been called, or the insinuation with Orihime. _"Ridiculous. It's not…. I don't think it's even possible to care for a human. The majorities of them are vile, and smell like they haven't bathed in weeks. But… Orihime is neither of those things…." _He told himself, untacking the shopping list from the door and leaving the tack on the floor- with any luck, either Urahara or Yoruichi would step on it. As he continued to stew over the purple haired woman's comment, it appeared he'd become rather good at arguing with himself lately.

* * *

Existing was the extent of what Ulquiorra did in school. He never took notes yet his grade remained a solid A- for him, school was both easy and tedious. As he stared at the wall, riddled with various marks from pencils and markers and things that looked like they came from something not meant to be used for writing, much less on a wall, he sighed. He was running out of things to connect the dots to. He was sure he'd seen more than half of the animal kingdom in that pockmarked wall, and there weren't many animals left that could be created from the blemishes. He was distracted from trying to impose the image of a giraffe into a certain cluster of specks when a triangle of paper was flicked onto his desk. Not bothering to see who it came from for he was fairly sure of whom already, he unfolded it. In loopy, scrawling writing, the sentence stood out against the lined whiteness of the paper.

"_That's the third time you've sighed in the last 3 minutes. What's wrong?" _

The question and script clearly belonged to the woman- nobody else in this class would have the courage to try passing him a note. The loopy-ness of it was befitting; the woman herself was imprudent. The unevenness of the print, which traveled off the line in parts, represented her hasty nature- she tended to rush around, and so did her writing. Clicking his pen, bothered by how much the human writing utensil still fascinated him, he wrote his response. Catching the eye of the student closest to him, he wordlessly handed it over. The student had been watching the exchange, and Ulquiorra knew it- as punishment, he'd be made the note passer. Not unexpectedly the teen moved the note right along to Orihime's desk, proving Ulquiorra to be right. How else would the student have known from whence the note came unless he'd been watching? He watched the woman's face redden at his response, before she allowed her curtain of hair to hide her expression as she quickly scrawled a reply.

"_He…..I don't believe this. "I wasn't aware you had been counting my sighs."? I can't believe him. But crap, because he's right…." _Orihime had been as bored as Ulquiorra, but instead doodled across her blank sheet of notes. An A student as well, she only took notes when she felt she'd need them. Today's lesson wasn't one such circumstance, and as a result she'd been rendered with nothing to do. Orihime studied his writing. It was a lot like himself, she concluded. It was as if a computer had written in place of a person, save for certain letters having sharp flares to them, making the print eerie and old. Stark, written in dark ink, every letter clearly and neatly defined, it made her handwriting look like a five year old's by comparison. Snatching her pen off the corner of her desk, she retaliated to his observation of her observation.

"_I wasn't aware passing notes was on your list of "things that aren't so ignoble I can do them and get away with it" list. You'd have never passed notes a few weeks ago. You'd have stared at whoever told you that before calling them trash. :p (you know I'm right)"_

When the paper skidded across his desk, this time Ulquiorra was ready for it. With uncommon grace among humans, he caught the paper smoothly before it slid off the opposite side of his desk. Unfolding it, he held back a noncommittal noise- damn. She was right. He hadn't let his apathy slip so much, had he? Hopefully it was only her who'd noticed the changes the discovery of the heart had forced on him. He hadn't asked for these irksome feelings to invade his mind; yet in a sense, it "came with the territory"- he couldn't comprehend the heart without having one himself it seemed.

It took Ulquiorra a moment to recognize the colon and capital P as being a face, and he felt a tad foolish for it. In reality he hadn't been an arrancar for all that long- he'd gone to school as a human, but they didn't have these strange terms and way of writing like this time did. Someone could hand him a sheet of paper and tell him to take notes, but if they stuck him at a computer, he'd be at a loss. _"I think I'll toy with her a little more." _he thought insidiously, the corner of his lips lifting up into a smirk for an instant. A new source of entertainment found, Ulquiorra lazily wrote his response and passed the paper back. Her facial reaction was identical to her previous one, which he found was strangely to his satisfaction.

""_Touché. To be fair, you seem to be the only one to have noticed these differences, am I not correct?" ….Huh. Fine, two can play at this game."_

Orihime's response had the desired effect when she saw Ulquiorra's eyes widen a fraction before his face settled back into its inexpressive mask. She'd intended to make Ulquiorra squirm on the inside a little with her reply, and based on the fact that Ulquiorra had reacted at all, her goal had been accomplished. She sat back and enjoyed the display of emotions across the ex Espada's face that only she could discern.

""_Hmm…I don't know. I mean, if _I_ can figure it out I'll bet other people can…"_

This subtle comment unnerved Ulquiorra. He knew she was trying to poke at his mental walls by agitating him into thinking he was being obvious with his changes, but because he _had_ changed, the mild paranoia stuck. The bewildered communicator took the note that was shoved at him, keeping his hand as far away from Ulquiorra's as it could get. When passed to Orihime though, a bright smile was offered, and his attempt at having their hands brush was clearly intentional. A flash of jealousy ripped through Ulquiorra. That woman was _his_ to protect, and the student was bordering on unsafe limits. Immediately scolding himself for that purely human instinct, and for it also being an overreaction at that, he stopped a growl from slipping out.

He may have reconciled himself with the ability to feel, and allowed emotion to take him along on whatever ride it may offer, bumpy or not, but that didn't mean he couldn't still be sore about the situation. He'd been the Espada of Nothingness. The opposite of nothing now, it was a blow to his pride- the Espada of _Nothing_ shouldn't be able to feel something. Before he'd managed to stew over this for very long, a new notion wormed its way into his mind- why did it matter? What reputation was left for him to uphold? Anyone of stable mind in Las Noches who'd known him was destroyed now, and only Ichigo, the Quincy, and the woman knew what he'd been like. Those who were no longer around couldn't call him out on anything, and the shinigami and Quincy stayed out of Ulquiorra's business for the most part. There was no one left to pretend for.

The neatly folded triangle of paper was unfolded.

"_Nevertheless, the fact still remains only you can tell. Why is that?"_

Orihime glanced over to see Ulquiorra watching her with a sly expression on his pale face- he did _not_ just go there, did he? He'd sneakily asked her to define their "relationship", as it were, without needing to offer any input on his end. If she were to expect any kind of a response to her concerns, she'd need to give a little in order to get.

"_Because after being imprisoned in a tower for a while, I got to know you. How could I not notice? You went from no feelings to actually being bored in class. If the sighs and connect-the-dot pictures on the wall over there aren't any indication, I don't know what is. And you dodged my first question- what's wrong?"_

He had skirted her first question and they both new it. Brought to attention the second time, Ulquiorra knew changing the subject would be impossible. In truth, he didn't know himself what the exact problem was. He supposed it was a bunch of little problems, each one collectively nagging at him; the confining gigai, this school, the woman herself. She was an enigma, spurning more questions than answers. Every time he thought he'd figured her out, she'd do something that left him guessing once more. Of course he wasn't going to let her know any of this; he'd make this into a game, entice her into finding out how he'd changed herself. But a somewhat straight answer was needed first, to set her on the right track.

Neatly penning down his answer, he reflected on how he was doing exactly as he had in Las Noches, simply without the tinge of sadism. Little puzzles had piqued his interest even then, which explained his fascination with the woman- here, now, he was enjoying the mental challenge of laying down the web along which she would walk while playing his game. The only difference between his games then and this game now were his weaving it purely for entertainment, for fun, even.

He'd messed with Orihime in Las Noches, experimenting with different ways in which to break her spirit- but those had been in a cruel, uncaring manner. No regard for the feelings he was sure were nonsense, only interested in the result of his experiment; he was like Szayel in a way, reaching only to understand the ultimate answer, regardless of what may happen in the process- the major rift between the two being the setting of their tests. Szayel would twist flesh into the most disturbing of things, while Ulquiorra would subtly warp the mind. For the woman, however, none had proven successful and it had sent him for a loop- even then she'd proven his methods ineffectual, just as she was now.

"_I don't know. There are too many problems all at once. How you humans deal with all of this on a daily basis astounds me. And you'd better get the homework written down- by the end of this sentence, the bell should ring."_

There. The setting was set. All that was needed was for Orihime to follow along- determined to understand her, this method seemed most likely to work.

True to his prediction, the moment Orihime's head snapped up to look at him Ulquiorra had already stood, the bell ringing the instant he did so. Scribbling the night's homework down on her palm, Orihime rushed out of the classroom. She _knew_ something had been getting under Ulquiorra's skin. Reaching her locker only after being shoved twice and almost backhanded once, she regretfully grabbed her bag. She would have caught up to Ulquiorra and asked what his problems were and demanded he be more specific about it, yet she desperately needed to go shopping- her food just didn't taste the same without red bean paste.

* * *

"What am I, his housekeeper?" Ulquiorra complained to himself, appraising the shopping list as he drifted through the aisles of various produce. The money for the supplies had been taped to the back, but it were the supplies themselves that made Ulquiorra want to stuff this list down Urahara's throat.

"Eggs, milk, cheese, chips, lollipops, calamari, ramen, tea packets, onion rings, pudding, muffins, tuna, soda, cake…..candy is on here eight times! I should deliberately not purchase it." Ulquiorra's criticisms of the shopping list were silenced as a familiar laugh echoed from behind a shelf.

"Ulquiorra, is that you?"

Too late to turn tail now. "…..Yes."

"Hahaha, is Urahara having you shop for him?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I'm not even sure this store has calamari. Why does he want that?" Ulquiorra mumbled, sifting through packs of ramen, shaking his head at the sheer amount of sodium a single little package of noodles contained. That was one way to put oneself in an early grave for sure.

"It's probably Yoruichi who wants it." Orihime pointed out, scanning the shelves for the bean paste she'd come here for in the first place. "…..Damn…." Orihime muttered under her breath, spying the one remaining jar of her favorite food on the very top shelf. Standing on her tip toes, she was barely a fingers breadth away from her prize, and flailed a little, as if the exaggerate movement would bring it floating down to her level. Just about to jump to try to knock it down and catch it, a pale hand easily swiped the jar away. Ulquiorra leaned against the opposite shelf, scrutinizing it. He'd changed out of the school uniform and wore a dark green, form fitting shirt under an also form fitting white trench coat. His pants were a pristine white as well, and Orihime felt bad for a moment- he still missed Las Noches, whether he'd admit it or not; this was the closest he could come to his Espada uniform as far as modern, normal clothes were concerned. Huffing, Orihime reached out to take the jar but ended up a mere inch or so away as Ulquiorra dangled it just out of her reach, smirk barely present. It was clear he was enjoying this however.

"Ulquioraaa!" Orihime whined indignantly, using a great deal of effort to hold back her pout- this wasn't fair, and he knew it.

"What is it, woman?" Ulquiorra asked innocently, smirk widening a fraction.

"You know what. Give me my bean paste!" Orihime pleaded indignantly, holding out a hand for the jar. "And I do have a name you know." She added.

"Oh, you mean this?" Ulquiorra questioned, feigning surprise as he tossed the jar up a few feet. Catching it without ever tearing his gaze from Orihime's he placed it in her open palm, delighting in the consternated look on her face. Apparently emotions had a good side too- he'd never be able to enjoy messing with Orihime without them.

"Thank you." Orihime grumbled, emphasizing the statement to impose the sarcasm of it a little further. Tucking the jar of bean paste in next to other jars in her shopping basket, each containing things entirely unidentifiable if not for the labels declaring what abnormal substance resided inside them, Orihime gave a surprised "Oh!" before snapping her fingers and digging around in her pocket for something. "Ah, there it is." She proclaimed, presenting the note from class.

Ulquiorra tried not to cringe upon seeing the note- he knew it would come back to bite him eventually, just not so soon. "What about it?" he deadpanned.

"You never said to eat this."

"I….what?" Ulquiorra had turned to walk down the aisle towards the seafood section, but almost tripped at Orihime's comment. He'd been expecting the big, heavy, and important "So, what's wrong?" question. And instead he gets this? Already his game of understanding her was falling apart.

"You know- once people are done passing a note, the person making the last pass writes "eat this note" and the person who the note ends with has to eat it, so nobody can read it." Orihime answered cheerfully.

"….That…is absolutely foolish. Why, for any reason, would I ingest a dead tree?" Ulquiorra pointed out.

"Well… I don't really know, but the method would work at least, right?" Orihime chattered on, mouth running miles in front of her head as per usual.

"…I suppose." Ulquiorra grudgingly agreed.

Dusk approaching, the checkout counters were empty save for a single drowsy employee who gave the impression of wanting to be anywhere but where he was. An eyebrow was raised at the collection of foods, but no comments were made as he rang up the total. Not even bothering to gasp at the price of all the junk food like Orihime did when the red letters blinked across the register screen, Ulquiorra handed over the pile of money. It wasn't his food, and it wasn't his money, so why should he care? If Hat and Clogs went broke from an inhuman amount of potato chip consumption, it would make no difference to the arrancar- he might even take some satisfaction over watching the shopkeeper go through a junk food withdrawal. Once the mixes of odd items were paid for, Ulquiorra hauled the bags off the counter. _"Another worthless aspect of gigais- they're weak."_ Ulquiorra deprecated, as the false body struggled under the weight of fattening substances.

"Thank you! Have a good evening, sir!" Orihime trilled, and the cashier brightened a bit and waved goodbye.

"…Why do you do that?" Ulquiorra questioned Orihime as she exited the store, narrowly missing a bang into the sliding glass. She didn't appear to have even noticed her near run-in with the door however, and her smile didn't falter as she immediately replied "Why? It's polite for one, and two, he seemed a little sad. Hopefully that made his night better, if only for a while."

"But…you don't even know that person." Ulquiorra said, confused. Caring about the sadness of a complete stranger? Why waste the energy?

Orihime stopped then, as they reached the road that would split them and send them on different paths to their respective home and residence. Ulquiorra's gaze was unflinching as he watched her puff out a breath of air in exasperation, and turn fully towards him.

"Does it matter?" she spoke earnestly "What if you had been just another stranger?"

"But I wasn't." Ulquiorra pointed out the obvious, feeling a glimmer of triumph. The woman couldn't possibly have a rebuttal to this.

But of course she did, and of course Ulquiorra was once more left with more questions than he'd started with. "And how many other people would have saved someone who'd been…less than polite to them?"

Ulquiorra's mouth opened in the beginnings of a denial, but no words came out. No matter what angle he analyzed the problem from, it always ended with Orihime's actions to save him not making any sort of sense. He _had_ been "less than polite" as she nicely phrased it, and he _had _been undeserving of any second chance. Yet he'd been given one.

"Ulquiorra… You pretend to hate this place, and pretend to not care, but I know you do. I doubt anyone else knows" here she waved the note in front of his face, his eyes following it like a taunted cat's for a moment before relocking gazes with her "but I do. I said goodnight to that stranger because I'd want the same done for me, and I saved _this_ rude person" he felt Orihime poke him obstinately in the chest "because I'd never wish death on anyone who had a second chance, _regardless_ of whether they deserved it."

"I don't…understand how you can do those things for people. What have they ever done for you? Nothing." Ulquiorra caught her wrist before she moved it away, and tried to ignore the warmth and softness of the skin.

"Because… uh…" the redness was back, and the woman's speech had become incoherent, but she pressed on after regaining control. "Because it's the right thing to do. Did you _have_ to gently move that girl out of your way and yell at the ones who'd pushed her? No. But you did. And once you understand why you did that" Orihime gingerly removed her hand from the Espada's light grip "You'll have made the most of my saving you. Goodnight. I'll see you in school."

Ulquiorra stared after her as she walked away, his hand still partly in the air. She had seen that? At the time, he'd thought nothing of moving the flustered student aside- maybe this was the point she was trying to make; kindness was an unconscious act. A breath escaped him he wasn't aware he'd been holding, and he shifted the bag of food to his other hand, departing to the Urahara shop.

Ulquiorra's mind was strangely quiet as he walked to the shop, digesting all that had been told to him, for once not arguing. The doors to the silent shop opened with a hushed sliding noise, and Ulquiorra dumped the bags unceremoniously onto the table. He may have been made to go shopping, but was never told to put the junk food away. It would all end up in the same place anyways. Downing the soul pill, he separated from the gigai with relief. The sounds and smells intensified, and his eyes easily picked out the glare of faint light off the molten gold of the cat woman's eyes.

"Welcome back, Ulquiorra-kun. You did get my calamari, right?" The teasing was evident in Yoruichi's voice- he didn't need to see her to know what her expression was at the moment. The ruffling of clothes was quickly cut off as a sleek black cat pounced on the package of calamari on the table, purring while kneading it contentedly.

"Don't blame me if your squid goes bad from you poking holes in the seal. And don't call me that, _cat_." Ulquiorra warned, turning to leave for his room, which now smelled much more pleasant.

"And how was your time with Orihime-chan?" Ulquiorra stopped short at the question, posed casually, but with a hint of amusement running through it. "Do you feel enlightened at all, by her logic? I'm sure you're simply confounded, in fact."

"And if I am?" He returned dully.

"Well, she'll get you to see the light eventually. But for goodness sakes, don't be such a stick in the mud." The deep, even voice purred knowingly.

"I beg your pardon?" Ulquiorra glanced over his shoulder in time to see the flash of white teeth from a feline grin being smothered.

"Hm. I'll have to help you along. Try imagining this- Orihime without a shirt!" Yoruichi no longer bothered to conceal her smirk, now outright laughing in an odd, hissing sort of way.

"And why, cat, would I want to think of that?" Ulquiorra defended instantly, only causing the cat to laugh even louder.

"Because. Your face now matches hers." With this, the sound of hissing laughter dissipated as Yoruichi slunk out of the room.

"…Ridiculous." Ulquiorra swept down the hall, white trench coat whispering against the floor as he stalked to the mirror in his room. This too had come at a joke, Yoruichi commenting that "the more often he saw his gloomy face, the more sick of it he'd become- he'd have to make some sort of an expression then!" Ulquiorra glared at the mirror, daring it to show him something he didn't want to see. Instead, deep green eyes widened at the now retreating red across his face, then narrowed with thoughts of vengeance on the cat woman. The red across Orihime's face when Ulquiorra got just a little too close, it made sense now. An insistent tapping feeling in his head brought Ulquiorra back to reality, only to hear Murciélago's badly hidden snickers.

"_Well, master? What do you _feel_? You promised both me and yourself you'd go along with these emotions. (as if you had a choice)" _the ending to this was mumbled quickly, and Ulquiorra shoved Murciélago out of his head for a moment, the blade only making a small sound of protest before quieting. What did he feel? Leaning against his bed, Ulquiorra crossed his arms and drummed his fingers pensively. Snippets of his old life fluttered back- incomplete, like a charred reel of film, but with the general intent behind them still legible. The feelings of anger, of sadness, of fear, of happiness. But there was one missing; love was missing. Running a hand through his hair, feeling the bone skull with a comfortable sense of familiarity, Ulquiorra's eyes wandered to his desk where a crisp white piece of stationary winked up at him.

"_Go and get her, already. Find love- nobody will blame you for it."_

Instead of a name, a pawprint marked the identity of the writer. Ulquiorra angrily snatched up the paper and stuffed it in a random drawer. Why could this purple haired woman never leave him alone? But the words drove themselves deeper into his brain, and before Ulquiorra could stop it, the seed had been planted. "Find love. Go get her." Five words. An incredibly short command but one that, as he fell back on his bed with an _almost_ nonexistent smile, Ulquiorra would follow.

* * *

Hm, lets see. Review please, because that makes me happy, and if you know, pleasepleaseplease tell me how to make spaces between the paragraphs! ;U;


	4. Command Carried Out

Final chapter! It's been a (not very) long journey, and I sincerely thank everyone who reviewed and those who didn't from the bottom of my heart. The constructive criticism was incredible, and the amount of response I've gotten to this has absolutely floored me. Now, because I'm sure all of you are going "Ok, blablabla, get to the story please!" I'll do additional thank you's and such at the end. Enjoy the final installment of _Escaping Normal_!

***Single biggest face-palm moment- _4th of July doesn't happen in Japan_. Oh god I think my head just blew up with the sheer amount of failure contained within it. I don't believe it. I look up everything, I research obscure things deeply, and THE BIGGEST THING I completely miss XD I don't think there's even a term to describe such epic failure. All I can say in my pathetic defense though is, it's a fanfic. Use your imagination? ^-^;; **Thanks to jumble for pointing out exactly the degree of failure I possess when dealing with American things. I live in America, but I don't give a damn about it's history- to me, America is the most boring country on the Earth. The British, we fight against ourselves like morons, blablabla. I dun care ._. *

* * *

No notes had been passed during class today, as Orihime knew Ulquiorra didn't like the show of immaturity even if he was willing to go along with it. That and the ex Espada seemed distant, almost far off in his thoughts. He gazed at the board, hearing and seeing the lesson, but not _really_. For once the lunch bell actually surprised Ulquiorra, and blinking, he came back to himself and stood quickly enough to not warrant any notice from the class. The walk to lunch was uneventful, buying the school food was uneventful, and sitting beneath his tree was uneventful. The only difference was that the humans allowed themselves to press a little closer than before.

"_I must be more like them now... a month ago I would have chided myself for such foolishness." _Ulquiorra mused, finishing off a neatly sliced tomato, grimacing at the taste- the school's food left much to be desired. He leaned his head in his palm, turning to the page in his book he'd left off at.

"_Thuf"_

The sound pulled Ulquiorra to attention, he looking up from his book calmly.

"If you won't sit at the table with us, I'll just have to sit with you until you will." Orihime said serenely, kneeling beside Ulquiorra pointedly as he gave her a flat stare.

"You're really not going to give up until I sit at that table, are you?" Ulquiorra grumbled resignedly.

"Nope!" The proclamation was chirped happily and with determination, Orihime adding to its effect by giving a cheeky smile.

"Hmm. We shall see, _Princesa_. I can quite easily deter you by doing something as small as this." Crumpling up his tray and tossing it into a trash can over his shoulder without turning around and shutting the book with a _"pok"_, Ulquiorra held back a smirk as he furtively grabbed her hand and simply played with her fingers, feeling satisfied as the red rose to her face.

"You are blushing." He noted playfully, wondering how much more she could take before she'd either crack, or melt from embarrassment.

"I-I am not." Orihime denied, but made no move to remove her hand from his tauntingly light hold.

"You are a terrible liar. And yes, you are. The tomato I had for lunch a moment ago must be rather envious." Ulquiorra's mouth curved into a half smile, watching the sunset haired woman flail around for a response to that.

"Well….you're…you're bad with using contractions when talking!" The comeback was rushed and not thought out, but at least it was correct.

"Am I? I'm not from this time period, so I would say I have an excuse." Ulquiorra studied Orihime's face, not noticing when her hand slipped from his grasp to around his wrist, still determined to bring him to the table.

"You lived close enough to today. I'd say you're excuse is a bad one. If you add together all the years you spent alive and as an arrancar, you really haven't lived much longer than me." While Ulquiorra was still fumbling over how she'd guessed his collective "age" so closely, Orihime stood and pulled him the few yards to her table, and Ulquiorra was met with a group of looks, most indifferent. Even Ichigo and Rukia seemed nice enough, both nodding politely at him as he registered being pulled down on a seat beside Orihime. Sado didn't smile, but his air of calm acceptance was all that was needed. The Quincy hadn't bothered to twitch at the ex Espada's arrival, buried as he was in his studies and flicking a page in his textbook instead.

"Normal people would be glaring at me now, if they were you." Ulquiorra trailed off, trying to read Ichigo's face.

"I'm clearly not normal people. Lucky for you, I don't hold grudges." The orange haired youth said flippantly, going back to shoveling food in his mouth as he ignored the short shinigami yelling at him to eat like a decent human to his side.

Quirking an eyebrow at Orihime, Ulquiorra said "Well, you've finally brought me to your table. Are you happy now?"

Orihime's enthusiastic cry of "Yes!" made the following midget and carrot-head jokes that much more comical.

* * *

"What do you find so fascinating about your hand, woman?"

Shrieking and jumping a few feet away and batting at whoever was in the direction of the voice, which happened to be right over her shoulder, Orihime wobbled on one foot before the weight of her bag pitched her back. A pair of strong, pale arms mischievously dipped her within a few inches of the pavement before then righting her gently.

"Ulquiorra! You scared me half to death!" the orange haired woman shrieked shrilly, stomping up to him and giving the ex Espada a firm tug by the horn of his helmet to lower him to her level. Even stooped as he was now, he still had the advantage of size over her, and Orihime seemed to disdainfully note this. She could bring him to eye level with her, yet she still couldn't win. It was rather funny to watch.

A sly smile made itself known as Ulquiorra's lips ticked up at the corners briefly. "Hmm. Then I had better not scare you half to death a second time- you'd be dead."

"Congratulations, you paid attention during the lesson on fractions." Orihime spoke blandly, giving the horn another slight tug stubbornly.

"Well if it so interests you." Ulquiorra murmured smugly, ducked his head, and straightening to his full height, leisurely strolling down the street as Orihime gaped after him, carefully clutching the bone white helmet by the horn in one hand.

"Ahhhh…."

"I know you're walking home this way, woman." Ulquiorra called over his shoulder, pausing as Orihime hurried to catch up with him. The back road was empty as usual, the neatly groomed green lawns and colorful window boxes winking back like something in a commercial for lawyers or healthcare- Ulquiorra avoided the television for this reason; he couldn't stand commercials, "filled to the brim with false promises" as he put it. Leaves occasionally fluttered by, or a cheerful bird would chirp here and there. The scene was overall very aesthetically pleasing, lulling people into a content harmony with themselves and all around them.

"You appeared rather preoccupied with this hand." Lifting it up for a mock inspection, Ulquiorra manipulated the appendage casually, watching Orihime flounder for a train of rational thought to hitch a ride on, until she came out looking plain irritated. Ulquiorra glanced at her expression, wondering where she was going with a look like that.

"If I'm not busy carrying things, you're messing with my hands! Fine, have it your way." Obstinately, Orihime pulled her hand from his long enough to plunk his helmet on her own head, before thrusting both hands out to her side at him.

Ulquiorra watched her move the helmet above her head as if in slow motion, hand darting up to stop her a moment too late.

"There. Now you can mess with both of them all you want…eh, Ulquiorra?" Orihime did a double-take at the ex Espada's countenance, edging away a few steps. Ulquiorra had gone stiff except for a hand that awkwardly patted the side of his head a few times, freezing the moment she moved backward.

"_She retreated. Foolish woman! Doesn't she know what it means to an animal when its prey tries to flee? It only spurs them on." _Dredging up the ability to speak that had been temporarily lost, Ulquiorra forced his hand down to his side. His voice came out unsteadily, even cracking and jumping a few pitches at the end of his sentence for an instant, with the effort of trying to hold himself back from…from what? He wasn't an animal- he wasn't going to eat her. This instinctual reaction wasn't for prey; it was for….

"Orihime, I think you should take that off. Quickly." The obvious strain in Ulquiorra's voice prompted Orihime to tear the helmet of her head and practically shove it back on Ulquiorra's. Before Orihime could snatch her hand back, Ulquiorra had intercepted and caught her arm. He clearly fought with himself over something as he brought the inside of her wrist to his face and pressed it against his lips, inhaling her odd scent slowly. As time sped back up, Ulquiorra's eyes snapped open and he took a step back, immediately releasing her.

"M…my apologies." Ulquiorra said, pulling his emotions into check, using only a second to ponder the action- a month ago he wouldn't have had to worry about this at all.

"N-no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I didn't know it would…what exactly _did_ that do, Ulquiorra?" Orihime's words tripped over themselves in her haste to make sense of the situation, while in the meantime trying to beat down the red across her features.

Wincing, Ulquiorra tried out a few excuses in his mind, but all of them were too flimsy to pass for an actual reason. The woman could be… _bubbleheaded_, he thought was an accurate term, but she was by no means stupid. Her perception was almost uncannily, unnervingly accurate. She'd see through any excuse he attempted to throw out there to pass off the events, so he decided to do what she _did_ have trouble with; he, as always, would tell the truth, but speak his words in a puzzle.

"Hm. You merely sped up an unavoidable process." Ulquiorra looked away uncomfortably. By placing that protective bone skull piece on herself, however innocent the gesture, had sealed her fate. Espada or no, all Espada in the end were advanced arrancar, which were advanced hollows. Instinct was hardwired into his being, and that was something that couldn't be shaken off, not ever.

She'd inadvertently claimed herself for him. She'd only intensified Yoruichi's "go get her" command.

Said woman's voice broke him from his thoughts. "I don't really get what you just said, and I know you won't explain it to me if I ask, so I won't. But can I ask if I'll understand soon?" Orihime studied him. He looked as cool, as unruffled as always, but Orihime knew better. The slope of his shoulders was a few inches higher, his jaw tighter, and his eyes narrowed marginally. The biggest giveaway though, was the look she'd seen behind those aqua-green eyes- the only thing she could come close to describing it as was _hunger_. The same glittering green eyes widened at the question a centimeter, then narrowed just as much while he thought over his answer.

"…Yes. Let's go."

"Mmn!"

* * *

"Hey Ulqui- whoa…. you look….I dunno, spooked?" Yoruichi's pattern of mini handball with the wall was violently interrupted as she stared openly at the arrancar's face, the little red ball flying out the open door and landing in the dirt with a slight "Pf!" before skidding to a stop. Ulquiorra trudged through the door, shutting it behind him and locking the little red ball outside for the time being, an unfortunate victim of misdirected anxiety. "What the hell happened?" The purple haired shinigami leaned forward intently, actually appearing concerned.

"Don't look so concerned- you like torturing me too much to worry about me." Ulquiorra groused, kicking an empty, bled-out chip bag into a corner. The cat woman whipped her head back in forth and yelled an enthusiastic "That's not true, Ulqui-ku-….Ulquiorra! I care. You're just easy to mess with. So, what happened?" Yoruichi pressed, no doubt excited to know what could have ruffled Ulquiorra's feathers so badly.

In a rare show of compliance, Ulquiorra let a sigh hiss loose and mumbled "She… she put on my helmet." while shifting aforementioned carapace a little.

"Oh man, that's like a female wolf flashing her throat at her mate- she made it five times harder for you to ignore her, didn't she?" Yoruichi's astonished, openmouthed face of course slid back into its typical smirk "…But, hey! Congratulations! You can now claim to be a fast worker when you two are together within the next few days. Even though she kinda dug her own grave with that…" The cat woman held her sides tightly, presumably to stop herself from rolling around the floor laughing her ass off. A snicker managed to eke out, and then a full laugh, but an errant thought distracted Yoruichi from her mirth. "You _are_ going to tell her what she did and why you almost jumped on her when she did sometime _soon_, _right_ Ulqui-kun?" Yoruichi's piercing gold eyes flicked to Ulquiorra's, the two meeting. The gaze held Until Yoruichi dropped her eyes to inspect her nails. Successful in the battle of wills, Ulquiorra picked his folder from school up off the table and turned towards his room, frowning as a mellow "It's her right to know" was cast after him. Infuriatingly, the cat woman was- again- correct.

* * *

A few weeks had gone by, each day increasingly harder to be around the woman without letting his pent up, held back emotions out. His still hollow half demanded he make the woman his _immediately_, but his now human half knew better- it spelled out for him that listening to the instinctual part in him would jumble things into one big mess. It was the piece of him that stopped himself from going too far each time they were together, which had also been an increasing occurrence. Thanks to it, he knew better than to rush things with her- but his hollow half was getting impatient, pressing at his willpower more fervently than ever. It was near maddening.

"Hey Ulquiorra- you have a visitor." The low voice dripped with a smug taunting, a black cat's tail whapping the book from Ulquiorra's hands. Yanking the tail, a yowl reverberated through the room and down the hall.

"Who is it? It's late." Ulquiorra picked his book back up, looking for the page that had been lost. A paw poked his leg inexorably.

"It's someone you wouldn't want to miss, trust me. And…you've waited long enough." The cat said cryptically, dropping off the bed and slinking down the hall.

"_It's a Sunday night- why would someone be here?" _Ulquiorra thought, sliding back the door to see Orihime staring, fascinated, into a tree across the "yard" of cement in front of the shop.

"What are-" "Shh!" Ulquiorra was promptly interrupted as Orihime flailed one of her hands, and beckoned him over. Sighing in exasperation, the ex Espada drifted over to see what had so captivated the woman's interest. A cheep tittered out of a nest on a low branch, the downy head of a chick fluffing up at the two beings staring so fixatedly at it.

"This is a bird." Ulquiorra stated from over Orihime's shoulder, honestly more concerned with how close he'd ended up to her when his original intent was to stay a few feet away. If only she hadn't put on his damn helmet and caused his instincts to screw him over….

"Yeah, isn't it cute?" Orihime breathed quietly, watching the chick poke around its nest and flap its stubby wings.

"Birds are everywhere." Ulquiorra said monotonously, blinking slowly as the chick swiveled its head at his voice, cheeping irately at him. "It is dark out- how can you even see it?"

Orihime stuck her tongue out at the arrancar, and said "I don't have the _absolutely stellar_ eyesight like you do, but I'm not blind as a bat." Here Orihime smothered a giggle into her hand, as Ulquiorra resisted rolling his eyes at the pun. A short feeling of amusement flowed from Murciélago.

"And yeah birds are everywhere, but…." Orihime's face fell a little at Ulquiorra's lack of enthusiasm over the chirping mass of downy fluff, and Ulquiorra sighed, conceding.

"Alright, fine, the bird is…"cute"" Ulquiorra ground out, watching it. He supposed he could, at the very most, see the appeal- it was fluffy, made a high pitched sound, was pudgy, and soft. What wasn't a sentimental female to like about it?

"Humph. _I_ think it's adorable. And I'm going to guess you haven't realized what today is?" Orihime harrumphed and pouted, then glanced up at him as she posed her second question, idly twisting a length of orange hair around her finger.

"Today is Sunday. Sunday _evening_." Ulquiorra said the obvious, slipping his hands in the white robes of his uniform's pants, scrutinizing the woman.

"Seriously, how could you have not noticed? Today is the fou-" "Fewwwwww! Ksssh!" a firework screamed into the sky and burst, painting the heavens a flurry of sparks. "Ha, it's the fourth of July!" Orihime rushed out, before another firework exploded, a cloud of purple erupting from the center of the miniature nova and pulsing out, fading into sparks that vanished like ghosts as soon as the eye locked onto one.

"The fourth...right."

An odd expression stole across Ulquiorra's face long enough for Orihime to turn and question it. "Ulquiorra? Is something wrong with today?" She asked, dipping her head to the side and blinking quizzically at him.

"I do not know. I get the impression of it not being the best holiday from my memories, even as faded as they are." A brief feeling of loneliness poked at the fringes of Ulquiorra's memory, the briefest snippet of a child hugging his knees to his chest while watching fireworks glitter through the sky from the vantage point of a rooftop, the sounds of a bickering family below thankfully drowned out by the mesmerizing noise. As quickly as the memory had flashed by his mind's eye it was gone like dust in the wind, like he had almost been until the woman had saved him.

Ulquiorra tapped his fingers along the hilt of Murciélago. The blade had been quiet recently save for it's response to Orihime's pun, and it unnerved him, but surely Murciélago would have made a rude comment by now if it disapproved of something, right?

"Hey, hey, let's go on the roof where we can see them better!" Orihime hopped a few times excitedly, tugging him by his sleeve to the ladder against the side of the shop. Her hair swished, blowing a wave of her scent over Ulquiorra. This was it- he couldn't take it anymore. A quiet boom and whoosh of air, and a half second later they were instantly on the roof, Orihime on Ulquiorra's lap with his arms looped around her waist loosely.

"U-Ulquiorra?" Orihime stammered, fireworks far from her mind as she tried to see his expression out of the corner of her eye. Placing his chin on her shoulder to effectively quell her attempts at moving her head, he said quietly "Do you remember that walk home a while ago?" When Orihime's answer wasn't forthcoming, he pulled back and knocked his helmet against her head gently, _feeling_ her flush as he replaced his chin nonchalantly.

"Uh-h, yeah. The one I still don't get." Orihime said, trying not to squirm. What was Ulquiorra doing? She wasn't complaining, per se, but she knew the cuatro Espada loved mind games. With emotion, obviously the slight sadism that came with them was gone, but that didn't stop him from confusing her endlessly. She knew he found her blush to be fascinating and entertaining- he could be messing with her yet again.

"First, you're tense. Relax. I am not going to pretend to throw you off the roof, or whatever ridiculous thing you're imagining, Second, you are aware that when you put this" another careful head knock for emphasis "on yourself, some…odd…things happened. I can sugarcoat it, or put to you bluntly what you did." Ulquiorra honestly wasn't sure what her choice would be, and prepared himself for either.

The offer was left hanging for barely a second before Orihime gave her immediate answer. "Just stick it to me."

Ulquiorra belatedly hoped his sigh of relief wasn't felt by Orihime. "Alright then. What you did was force me to indirectly claim you. I will let you digest that- take your time. I'm comfortable where I am and don't intend to move any time soon." Ulquiorra said as bluntly as possible, unable to banish the shameless smirk that Orihime no doubt felt against her neck.

"I, you…ohhh…wait, no way in hell…" Orihime's jaw dropped, and she wriggled away from Ulquiorra enough to face him, but his arms stubbornly stayed right where they were around her middle, pressing her close. The result was them being almost nose to nose. Her "my brain just shorted out" face was hilarious, and Ulquiorra had to completely ignore the desire to laugh- something told him she wouldn't appreciate that particular sentiment at the moment.

"You're making that tomato turn green with envy again." Ulquiorra chuckled, swiping the pad of his thumb across her cheek briefly, comparing the temperatures- predictably, hers was through the roof in embarrassment.

"So that's why you've had that…. Almost _pained_ look for a while lately, isn't it?" Orihime said, looking triumphant as she put two and two together.

"I prefer the term _restrained_." Ulquiorra informed her, idly wondering how many more degrees her face would heat up before her brain began to boil.

The two stared at each other, nether moving, and neither looking away. "Uhh. Do we just….. stare at each other now? What…do you want from me, Ulquiorra?" Orihime's eyes searched his, looking for an answer to her question. He'd make it easy and just tell her- but not _too_ easy; she'd get it in a puzzle first.

"However much you're willing to give, _Woman_." Ulquiorra brought his hand up and tweaked her nose to emphasize the nickname- she twitched and drew back, as any person would. Orihime opened her mouth to give a rebuttal, but the protest shriveled and died in her throat as Ulquiorra effectively silenced her by hooking a finger under her chin and pressing his lips against hers.

Pulling back, Ulquiorra poked Orihime's cheek to turn her head back to the sky. "You're missing the fireworks." Orihime remained taut as a bowstring, but relaxed once Ulquiorra placed his chin back on her shoulder. She leaned into the ex Espada that had gradually learned to care, and the two held each other closely and watched as the symphony of colors danced through the sky.

"I love you's" weren't necessary- as Orihime mischievously pecked Ulquiorra between a break in the explosions and his eyes widened considerably before gladly returning the favor, there wasn't anything to say. Except maybe a "You still haven't eaten this note."

* * *

*If you don't read this next part, even though if you reviewed any previous chapters you're on the list with my own response, at least read the last sentence please :p*

Alright, the end of my first story! *confetti, over 9,000 dancing llamas, balloons, the works* I'm interested in the feedback for this chapter, because every little story I've written in the past I've never legitimately finished, so I hope I did okay here? Now, because I fail, and don't know how to go and edit previous chapters, I'm stuffing everyone into this chapter. So! The following people improved and in a way provided this story. (motivation would have been 0 if not for them)

Mika- my lovely anonymous reviewer who was also my first reviewer, and provided a bit of a pick-me-up when I was feeling unmotivated.

VenG- VenG took the time to personally PM me some mistakes (which I don't know how to fix unless I re-upload the chapter and I think that would mess with the people who have me on story alert D:) and has devotedly reviewed each chapter- you're awesome! :D

The Form Of True Despair- was the first to alert me of the wall-of-textyness, and made me confident I wasn't making my chapters spammingly long. Thank you! :D

Kt- a nice motivation booster :D

bend over backwards- again pointed out the wall-of-textyness, so I took further measures to find out how to correct it- and I did (I think?). Thank you!

Deviltrigger Dante- another motivation booster :D

darkness surrounds me- told me an alternate way of making spaces between portions of text using symbols and such. I figured out how to use the line break thanks to another reviewer and used that instead, but if I'm ever feeling fancy or something in a future story, I might use your method. Thank you! :D

Twoformemories- I always thought Murciélago should have some kind of an imput- the Shinigami's Zanpakutō communicate with them and usually have somewhat different personalities, so why should an arrancar's be any different? Besides, I think the comic interludes with Murciélago giving Ulquiorra a bit of grief lightened things up a bit. :3

TwistedRoses132- An excellent pick me up and compliment, thank you! :D

wutai flea- Sorry! D: But it's got to end somewhere. I'll write more things, so never fear! XD

Symbion- I'm glad you think I kept Ulquiorra in character. :3 Writing Orihime was the hardest- I can't relate well to her upbeat, slightly ditzy nature because I'm pretty chill and cynical myself. But I don't _think_ I butchered her character... (I hope)...

iloveme264- The request nudged me to finish the chapter all the way at eh...when did I say it was on my profile update? 6 AM or something? Whatever, you can thank them for giving me that little push I needed while idling around bored-ly on a Sunday night...er, morning XD

Tobi Tortue- Tobi, your constructive criticism was absolutely excellent, and I tried to anchor down the passages in this chapter as clearly belonging to Ulquiorra or Orihime, based on either tenses, or what is said/thought. You told me the linebreak thing which I later face-palmed myself for, because it was pathetically obvious yet I still missed it. And best of all, I'm glad you noticed my dry humor- I've been told I'm funny in a kill-the-sunshine way at times, and I laughed when I saw you too had noticed. Thank you so much! :D

Okay, I think that's everyone. Phew. One more noob question though, bear with me- How do I mark this story as complete? (man it felt good saying that) :D


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